Derrica comes forward by degrees, until she rests her forehead against Ellie's. They breathe together. Ellie's face is damp with tears and the tremors take time to ease. Derrica breathes for her, deep inhales, held for a moment before she breathes out. The kind of breathing meant to steady, easy to mimic whether Ellie's aware of it or not.

Nothing needs to be said. Derrica's murmurs are soft nonsense, hushing, meant to soothe.

I'm here is all they're meant to be. Just as Derrica means to be something tangible, solid, for Ellie to keep hold of while she gets her feet back under her.