Stiles Stilinski (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
voluntaryapnea) wrote2015-06-29 12:12 pm
voluntaryapnea) wrote2015-06-29 12:12 pm
Entry tags:
- allison argent,
- and a bargain must be made,
- bucky barnes,
- bucky has a phd in psychology,
- dean winchester,
- don't ever say goodbye,
- emotional tether,
- game: tlv,
- i have more experience with banshees,
- i think her death it must be killing me,
- i think we ran out of time,
- iris wildthyme,
- like the sun came out,
- lydia martin,
- my inmate started the actual apocalypse,
- not just a girl,
- nothing in this world i wouldn't do,
- scott mccall,
- steve rogers,
- there's still poison in our veins,
- you still got me
28. I like to keep my issues drawn/It's always darkest before the dawn
[Video -- Open]
[Stiles has already packed up a bag, and it's sitting on his bed. There are clothes, food, his laptop and some various other small things including a couple of books inside, and atop the bag is his pillow. It doesn't show in the video when he turns on the communicator. All you can see is that he's sitting at his desk.]
Like Anya said, no one goes after him. You wanna talk about it, you can come and take it up with me.
[And that's all he's saying, because he had to say something. He knows there's a possibility that someone -- or multiple someones -- may take him up on that. He'll deal with it if they do. He disconnects the feed. He doesn't send a message to the rest of his friends. Doesn't really feel like talking about it. He picks up his bag, his pillow, his bat -- because it's his warden's item -- and he drops the note he wrote on his bed.
Staying down in Zero. Stiles. The others will find it. The pack. They all have access to his room, their own keys.
He leaves the room, locking the door behind him.]
[Spam for Dean]
[There's a resigned feeling that's settled into his chest. He's terrible at being a warden. Probably since the beginning. No. Definitely sense the beginning. He is not his dad. He doesn't have his dad's tolerance and fairness and he doesn't have what it takes to do this kind of job, and he wonders why the admiral ever offered him a deal at all. He had to know Stiles would be shitty at it, right?
Regardless of how he feels about it, how he feels about himself, his duty is to Dean and he takes it seriously despite everything else. Right now everything else has to take a backseat to that. He makes his way down to Zero with his things in hand and looks around, taking note of the cell that's been decimated, bars cut away since Dean had locked himself in with Anya. He lets out a breath, purses his lips and slowly heads down the corridor until he stops in front of Dean's cell. He drops his bag and sets down the baseball bat.
Dean doesn't look that bad. Iris took care of that part. There's not much Stiles could have done because he's not a doctor and he doesn't do well with blood and injuries. His nose is bruised, and Dean doesn't even look up at him. For a long moment he just stares at him silently.]
Hey.
[Stiles has already packed up a bag, and it's sitting on his bed. There are clothes, food, his laptop and some various other small things including a couple of books inside, and atop the bag is his pillow. It doesn't show in the video when he turns on the communicator. All you can see is that he's sitting at his desk.]
Like Anya said, no one goes after him. You wanna talk about it, you can come and take it up with me.
[And that's all he's saying, because he had to say something. He knows there's a possibility that someone -- or multiple someones -- may take him up on that. He'll deal with it if they do. He disconnects the feed. He doesn't send a message to the rest of his friends. Doesn't really feel like talking about it. He picks up his bag, his pillow, his bat -- because it's his warden's item -- and he drops the note he wrote on his bed.
Staying down in Zero. Stiles. The others will find it. The pack. They all have access to his room, their own keys.
He leaves the room, locking the door behind him.]
[Spam for Dean]
[There's a resigned feeling that's settled into his chest. He's terrible at being a warden. Probably since the beginning. No. Definitely sense the beginning. He is not his dad. He doesn't have his dad's tolerance and fairness and he doesn't have what it takes to do this kind of job, and he wonders why the admiral ever offered him a deal at all. He had to know Stiles would be shitty at it, right?
Regardless of how he feels about it, how he feels about himself, his duty is to Dean and he takes it seriously despite everything else. Right now everything else has to take a backseat to that. He makes his way down to Zero with his things in hand and looks around, taking note of the cell that's been decimated, bars cut away since Dean had locked himself in with Anya. He lets out a breath, purses his lips and slowly heads down the corridor until he stops in front of Dean's cell. He drops his bag and sets down the baseball bat.
Dean doesn't look that bad. Iris took care of that part. There's not much Stiles could have done because he's not a doctor and he doesn't do well with blood and injuries. His nose is bruised, and Dean doesn't even look up at him. For a long moment he just stares at him silently.]
Hey.
[Spam]
[The smile flashes closer to a grin, and Scott swings the bag off his shoulders, dropping down to sit on the floor. It's not an unfamiliar situation, even if what caused it is: when Claudia died, when his dad left, Scott knows this is what got him through. He pulls out the package of cookies, passes it over to Stiles. Then he nods toward the cell, and drops his voice.]
He okay?
[Spam]
He takes the package from Scott and pulls it open. Their lives growing up would have been so much simpler if the Oreo packages had always had the easy open top where it was hard to tell if a cookie or two vanished.]
Physically...mostly. The rest? [He sighs and lays his head back against the wall, popping a cookie in his mouth and holding the package out for Scott.]
[Spam]
It's weird. I miss when everyone doing weird or awful shit was our age.
[Redeeming grown men and women - he still feels weird about it. Who wants a teenager trailing after them, telling them how to live their life?]
[Spam]
Are you saying you miss Matt the psycho and Jackson the kanima?
[His voice is wry.]