When the door finally breaks down and people barge into his room,
Derek is already so far gone that he cannot even tell how many of them are there or if they are his friends or just random strangers.
He hopes it is his room-mates, but try as he may, he cannot see past the blurriness of his vision and he cannot hear anything over his own breathing coming out in wheezes.
“Fuck...” he hears someone growl so close to his ears that he winces, curling into a tight ball.
“Fuckity fuck...” the same voice swears again, under the breath and with that there are hands, strong and persistent, trying to pry his limbs open and make him lie on his back.
Derek whimpers but doesn’t relax his death grip on his knees which are touching his forehead, burrowing his face even deeper into his chest.
“Damn...his heart is –”
“I know.” The first voice says somewhat gruffly.
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