#3 -- Until it Disappeared

[voluntaryapnea]

[Private Video -- Jack]

[Stiles appears on the video screen, looking...kind of terrible. Rundown. He's also rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.]

Hey, man. You got a few minutes?

[Video -- Filtered to Friends of Scott McCall]

[Stiles is silent for a moment when the video clicks on again. He hesitates -- and if anyone knows him (which of course they don't, really, yet), that's unusual for him. He kind of looks like he'd rather be doing literally anything else than what he's about to do.]

So, Scott's been gone for a few days now. He's -- when he comes back, he's probably going to be kind of different than you're used to.

[He lets out a breath, raking a hand through his hair.]

If he stays there long enough to be at the same point in time where I was when I came here, he's gonna be different. Some pretty bad crap happened back home and he's going to need a lot of support.

[He swallows hard, looking extremely uncomfortable as a hand passes over his face. He's been trying to get the courage to say all of this since the day that Scott left.]

But like, don't...treat him differently than usual? Just let him know you're there if he needs you. Yeah, I guess that's...pretty much it.

[The video clicks off.]

Comments

[Friends Filter]

[mistconduct]

Who, calm the fuck down. We don't know anything yet.

Plus I totally have Scotty Dog beat in Bad Shit From Home so I don't think you've got much to worry about.

[Friends Filter]

[voluntaryapnea]

I'm calm, actually. [Extremely calm. Which is really, really the opposite of how he usually is.

He wonders though.]

Yeah?

How are you recovering from the whole death thing?

[Friends Filter]

[mistconduct]

Yeah, because making panicked calls on the network is totally the definition of calm.

100% recovered. Up and out of bed again, just like new. Not the first time I've died here, but it definitely took the longest.

[Friends Filter]

[voluntaryapnea]

If you call that panic, you haven't seen panic, man.

[He arches an eyebrow.]

Well, glad to hear that, at least. Uh, how many times have you died here, exactly?

[Friends Filter]

[mistconduct]

Fair enough.

Twice, and almost a third time. Very close to a third time. Plus I died to come here, so. Shit like that.

[codename_duchess]

Can I still play lacrosse with him?

[voluntaryapnea]

Yeah. Yeah, man, definitely. Did you play before you met Scott, or did he teach you?

[codename_duchess]

Are you kidding? I could've taught Scott. At 18 I was the most sought-after high school lacrosse player in America.

[voluntaryapnea]

That's awesome. Most people don't even know what lacrosse is. I mean usually everywhere, everyone's all about football or baseball or hockey.

[codename_duchess]

Which is totally freaking stupid! Lacrosse is goddamn awesome!

Do you play?

private

[diealone]

Yeah. What's up?

private

[voluntaryapnea]

[He hesitates for a moment, chewing his thumbnail.]

I sort of have this headache that I can't get rid of. I've taken aspirin, Tylenol and Advil -- nothing's really working. I was hoping you might have some suggestions.

private

[diealone]

Are you keeping yourself hydrated?

private

[voluntaryapnea]

Yeah. Like, four bottles of water a day?

private

[diealone]

And do you have any other symptoms, or is it just the headache?

private

[myresponsibility]

What kind of bad stuff?

private

[voluntaryapnea]

[Yeah, Stiles really doesn't want to go into details, all things considered. But.]

Someone pretty close to him died. [His gaze drops and he looks at his hands.] More than one, actually.

[Aiden and Scott weren't best friends or anything, but he'd been helping Scott a lot over the last few weeks and that wasn't going to be easy for him to deal with either.]

And...a lot of other people got hurt.

private

[myresponsibility]

[Peter wants to ask who - Allison, his mom, Stiles - but part of him isn't sure he wants to know that until Scott tells him himself.]

Did you tell him that before he went home?

private

[voluntaryapnea]

No. No, I didn't tell him. I tried to talk him out of it, though.

[But once Scott gets an idea in his head? You might as well talk to a brick wall. Stiles can't say much about that really, because he's sort of the same way.]

...do you think I should have told him?

private

[myresponsibility]

No. [The answer's pretty immediate.] I mean, I don't think I'd want to know. Or like...

[He hesitates, tries to put himself in those shoes, wondering what it would be like to know that Chris or someone knew that Gwen or Aunt May was going to die and didn't say anything until he got back.]

I don't know. Like, I guess if there was something I could do about it, I'd want to know, but if there wasn't, I don't think I'd want to until it happened.

[ Scott Friends Filter ]

[surfaceshine]

[On the surface of it, it's a strange question; Dean and Stiles aren't close, Dean isn't normally the type to read between the lines - at least that he admits to anyone else - or, lately, put himself out there at all to the other passengers of the Barge.

But there's a practical undertone to it: these things may happen to Scott, whatever they are, and he may come back. They may not. He may not. But Stiles is already there, and so:]

Aaaaaand what about you, kiddo?

[Scott Friends Filter ]

[voluntaryapnea]

[Stiles isn't really sure how to answer that. Physically, other than the persistent headache, he feels like he's improving. He can keep food down again. He doesn't feel as weak and cold as he had. All good signs. He doesn't really know Dean. They've talked a few times, and he knows Scott liked him. Trusted him.

He shrugs a little, pressing his lips together in a line.]

I'm dealing. [He can't honestly say he's okay because he isn't.] It's all I can really do at this point.

[Scott Friends Filter ~~~> Private ]

[surfaceshine]

Is it?

[This is neither gentle nor unkind; Dean splits the different easily, without thought. He comes from a family where coddling is not only a foreign concept, but usually nigh on impossible; but he is an older brother. He doesn't even notice himself doing it.

He levels the dark hazelgreen of his gaze on Stiles through the communicator, and switches the feed to Private.]

Have you talked to anyone besides Scott, here? Made any friends, found anyone to trust? I don't mean about deep personal shit, I just mean... you know.

[Private]

[voluntaryapnea]

[He ponders that for a moment. Is it? Is it all he can do? It's all he can do about all the crap back home until his deal is done here. That aside, no. He hasn't been productive here. And he knows it's not healthy and it's bad and he needs to suck it up and start at least leaving his room. He's pretty sure that's where Dean is going with all of this anyway.]

I've talked to people on this thing. Yeah, I know it's not the same.

[He sighs, looking down for a long moment. Here's the conundrum: he's had exactly one friend his entire life up until the last year. He doesn't really know how to do the friends thing with people who aren't Scott McCall, because Scott has the patience of a saint.]

Don't suppose you play lacrosse?

[Private]

[surfaceshine]

[It's giving Dean a lot of credit that he's headed there, but the truth of the matter is that he absolutely is; he's been around this place long enough to watch it chew up and spit out new wardens and inmates alike, and he's not remotely stupid enough to have missed the pattern. Those with ties, with friends, make it. Those that try to stand alone get pulled under.

He supposes there's something philosophical about it somewhere in there, but his bottom line is mostly about survival. Other things, yes, but survival first.]

Do what now?

[But here's where they're both in luck: Dean picks up people like a sponge, now. He snorts, raising an eyebrow.]

Basketball. And some other less savory sports, but that one mainly. You try Alex for that lacrosse crap, he and Scott were working up to it, I think.

...You like dirt bikes? [Fuck it. It worked on Scott.]