Derek nods and stares down into his whiskey, taking a gulp of it even though it's about as potent as water to him. He could really go for some of that recreational wolfsbane that he and Laura would get in New York sometimes. A few drops and he could relax too.

He listens as Castiel speaks, but he's looking at Stiles the whole time. He can practically see the gears turning in that frustratingly brilliant head of his. He leans towards him a bit, taking off his fedora and dropping it on the table. "What are you thinking, little beta?"

He uses the fond nickname despite their company, mostly to ground Stiles so he doesn't get too lost in his thoughts.