When Barry’s arms go around him, his first instinct is to tense up. Once he realizes what’s happening, that Barry is actually hugging him, he relaxes into it even if he doesn’t quite understand it. The last person to hug him had been his sister before she left for Beacon Hills. That was so long ago now.

He curls an arm around Barry’s waist, indulging in the urge to nudge his nose behind Barry’s ear and inhale subtlety. He smells amazing, more calming than these strange balls of light, and he has to stop himself from tugging Barry back in once he’s let go.

“It’s okay,” Derek replies, looking a little confused by the apology. “You— it’s okay. You can touch me.”

It feels like a big deal. This is perhaps the first person that Derek has ever given such permissions, because everyone else simply took. Barry keeps talking and Derek frowns, shaking his head a little as he looks out at the lake. Kid or not, Kate never would have gotten close enough if he hadn’t spilled all of those secrets.

“Werewolf hunter,” Derek clarifies stiffly, still looking out at the water. “Most of my family were born wolves like me, but there were humans in there too. She didn’t care. Eleven people died.”