[Point. The idea of not being in control of his own actions or words again is -- unsettling at best. He grimaces and takes a drink before setting his glass down in front of him, watching as Dean pours himself glass after glass of liquor until he finally stops and stares at it.

Stiles exhales.]

Okay, that's fair. [As fair as things got anyway.] I won't tell anyone anything unless there's some kind of flood and I literally can't do anything about it.