25. Release me from this curse I'm in/I've been trying to maintain/But I'm struggling

[voluntaryapnea]

[Open Spam]

[Hours after being returned to the Barge, Stiles is still trying to pull his thoughts together and struggling to do so. Physically he feels fine. But every now and then he catches a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. Any time he turns to look and see who or what it is, it vanishes quickly. He wants to chalk it up to the lack of sleep at the port.

Truthfully he's worried. Fleeting as it is, he's familiar with this sensation. This things aren't quite right feeling that's settled into his chest as he goes to check on Lydia in the infirmary, and then Dean at his room.

He checks in with Kira on the network, thankful she's now awake, and then goes to check in on the still coma'd Allison. Goes to check in on Scott and Liam. He makes his rounds on the Barge, rubbing tiredly at his eyes.

The feeling doesn't leave him as he grabs food from the cafeteria, sitting alone at a table because he doesn't feel like looking for someone to sit with.

Something isn't right.]

Comments

[voluntaryapnea]

[He watches Dean, half expecting a fight, and not sure what to think when he doesn't get one. It's worrying. Then again he knows Dean isn't feeling that great, and that probably goes a long way toward explaining why his inmate isn't trying to argue with him about it right now.

He nods a little, pushing himself away from the door.]

I'll go so you can rest. [He pauses, hesitating for a moment.] I can check with the infirmary and see if there are sleeping pills if you think it'd help you rest better.

[surfaceshine]

[Dean's lips twitch, bemused and a little nonplussed by the offer. He keeps being a dick to Stiles. Stiles keeps trying to help him anyway. He doesn't get it.

This time he does slit his eyes open, finds his warden with his dull gaze.]

Not a problem, right now. Exorcisms... takes a lot to do that many.

I'm good.

[Nauseous, worn through, cut up, and still alone, but it's the closest he can come to good right now so he'll take it.]

[voluntaryapnea]

[He nods, looking like he wants to ask something -- or more than one something, given who he is, and he does want to ask more things about exorcisms and Latin and the symbol that Dean had drawn on Lydia and him before, but those questions will wait.]

Okay.

[He picks up Dean's communicator and moves it closer to him.]

Just in case you change your mind, give me a holler.

[surfaceshine]

[They are, one and all, questions Dean would answer much more readily than anything about himself; his knowledge is fair game. His life is not.

This time when Stiles is patronizing, Dean rolls his eyes vaguely, closes them again.]

Dude. Stop. [Firm, and if it's lacking the harshest edges - if it sounds a little like something familiar and well worn in its exasperation - it's because he's always been bad at being sidelined by his own limitations.] Go away.