voluntaryapnea | 16. And all the roads we have to walk are winding

[Video -- Public]

[The video feed opens to reveal the deck of the ship. A second later you can see Stiles leaning against the railing, a troubled expression on his face. He's pretty sure he already has the answer to the question he's about to pose, but he wants to be sure. He glances over his shoulder, up at the sky.]

Okay so is it just me, or are the stars...a lot less bright than usual? [He shifts so that he's holding the comm up so everyone can see what he's talking about.]

Is this another Mirror Barge sign?

[Spam for Kira -- Pub]

[He makes it to the Pub in less than the ten minutes that he agreed to meet Kira. It's closed, but he uses his warden's item and lets himself in. He's already perusing the alcohol choices when he hears her footsteps approaching and his head pops up from behind the bar. He gives her a small smile before ducking down again.]

So what's your poison, my friend?

[Spam for Scott]

[It's much later now. So late he doesn't actually even know what time it is. He's not entirely sure where he's even going until he finds himself in front of Scott's closed door. Oh. Apparently that's where. He has a half-drunk bottle of Jack in his left hand and his vision is just a bit bleary. He already has a headache, and realistically he knows he should just go to his own cabin, down some aspirin, drink some water, and crawl into bed for the next twelve or so hours. But he doesn't feel like being alone tonight.

Kira was great company, but they parted ways awhile ago and he's been wandering the corridors since. He briefly contemplate just going up to the deck again. Laying beneath the stars and staring up, but the way they've gotten dimmer freaks him out when he's completely sober, let alone when he's drunk. And the rational part of his brain that's still functioning tells him that he shouldn't be out and about when there are at least two people on the Barge who would probably like to see him dead.

Still. Where once he wouldn't have hesitated to just barge in on his best friend, he knows Scott's dealing with a lot already and a drunken Stiles probably isn't something he should have to deal with. He sighs and pushes himself away from the door, stumbling a little and rubbing a hand over his face as he heads back toward the stairs.]

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I'll take your word for it.

[Scott closes the door behind them, dropping onto the bed beside Stiles. He puts the bottle on the floor between his feet, tossing a dirty pair of pants toward his laundry basket to cover how he feels about Kira and Stiles trying to get drunk together. Though, he's not completely sure how he feels, so the tiny crease in his brow is still there when he straightens.]

Yeah, I'm sorry too. You're gonna be less sorry in the morning, though. How come you guys were drinking?

Yes, there will be much more sorry in the morning. Probably sooner.

[Stiles stretches his legs out in front of him, glancing at Scott sideways and noticing the tiny brow crease. As if sensing Scott's uncertainty, his eyes widen comically and he holds up his hands, rising to his feet and turning to face his best friend, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.]

Dude. It wasn't like that. I wouldn't do that to you, even if you guys aren't... you know, like together here and now. That is -- that is like the number one rule of Bro Code. You do not make the moves on your friend's girl. Ex-girl. Girl back home. Whatever. I'm not Isaac. [He waves a hand around.] It was strictly an experiment in seeing if her metabolism was like yours. Like a werewolf's.

[He exhales.]

Also Jackson is here and that...that sincerely sucks. [He drops down onto Scott's desk chair, slouching in it and looking forlorn.]

[Scott reaches out automatically when Stiles gets to his feet, offering a steadying hand just in case he does trip over his own feet. It wouldn't be the first time. He manages a smile, then a laugh at Stiles' defense, and starts to shake his head - but before he can say, no, it's cool, I didn't mean it like that, Stiles is hitting the heart of things and sitting again.

The smile slips away, and Scott nods quietly, looking down at his lap for a moment before peeking up again.]

So...you and Lydia...?

[He's dancing around what he wants to say, but it's Stiles. He can only manage that for so long before it just busts out of him.]

[He rubs a hand over his face, eyes burning with warmth as he blinks a few times and shrugs.]

I don't...I don't know. I thought maybe it was all gonna you know. Work out or something. [His foot bounces on the floor and he rakes a hand through his hair.]

Dude.

[He pulls his legs up, turns to face Stiles and settles his arms over his knees.]

It's not like that's all gonna go away, just cause he's here.

[But he remembers Lydia saying I love you, too. He remembers Stiles crying. He remembers how mad she made him for so long, just because--

But no. He pushes that away and shakes his head.]

It's been a while for us, man. She likes you.

[He looks over at Scott with glassy eyes. He doesn't want Scott to be upset with Lydia. He knows that his best friend had issues with her for a long time because she'd been kind of oblivious to his presence. He's glad they're friends now; really glad. But he can't keep the words from tumbling out.]

Maybe. But she loved him.

[He looks down at the floor, scraping his teeth over his tongue absently.]

And maybe she still does. Maybe she always will. And he's -- you know, messed up and she wants to help him, and I get it. I hate it, but I get it.

[They are friends, and that's why Scott can push it away. He manages a small smile, just a twitch at the corners of his mouth.]

Yeah. Loved. Past tense, man.

[He shakes his head when Stiles tries to say other wise.]

I want to help him. I mean, I kinda hate him, but I feel sort of responsible for him, too. [It's not like Derek is around to offer any help. Scott pauses for a moment before adding one more thing.]

You know, she actually asked me to check on you. Make sure you were okay. She didn't have to ask that.

Maybe.

[He doesn't look up this time. He's not surprised by Scott's admission. He feels responsible for all of them, even when in reality he's not. But he kind of has to be, simply for the fact that Jackson is a newly turned werewolf and Scott is an alpha and if Scott doesn't help him, someone is going to end up hurt or dead. He rubs a hand over his jeans, picking at a loose string there and blinking a couple times when it morphs into two and then three strings.]

Yeah but...even if we're not -- anything more than what we've always been... [He motions a hand toward the door and exhales, letting his head drop down a little more.] I'm not even sure if it really matters. I mean it's not like -- back home's gonna be different anyway, right? I mean even when we get our deals and...everything's going to be different.

You think we're not gonna remember any of this?

[He's not sure how it comes out so calmly, because he feels a thread of fear over that. He doesn't want to forget anyone he's met, here. (Well, maybe one or two.) They're his friends. They could be family. They're people he would hurt for, and the idea of losing his memory of them...

Scott exhales that concern, too.]

Even if it's different, we'll have to know why.

[His words come out so calmly that this time Stiles doesn't really pick up on the fact that Scott's kind of afraid of the possibilities. Stiles is afraid of the possibilities, too, but for very different reasons. Reasons he isn't willing to talk about with anyone -- not even Scott, and not even while he's drunk.]

Did you really...remember this place when you went home? Or did it just, I don't know, seem like a dream or something?

I guess it was just....Like a dream. I kinda knew I had to do something, somewhere else, but...

[He shakes his head, watching Stiles carefully.]

Maybe that's just because Jack didn't graduate. Like, maybe once you get the deal, you remember everything when you leave.

[He isn't sure, really, if that's better or worse. He isn't sure what he wants to hear. What he wants to be true. He rubs a hand over his chest as he lays his head back, staring up at the ceiling.]

Yeah. Yeah, maybe.

16. And all the roads we have to walk are winding

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