semifreakingnormal | ( 029 ) Ω ( SPAM + VIDEO )

[The breach ends and Scott is exhausted, from the drifts and the new memories and the attacks. He doesn't want to think about how many people got hurt there, because it's impossible not to think of that place as real. There's another him somewhere, piloting a Jaeger with another Clementine, and they're both fighting for their lives.

He makes his way back to his bedroom and drops face first onto the bed, not realizing how long he's actually been asleep. That's where he'll be found, but the usual conga line of visitors. Except this time, he'll probably wake up when people start talking around him.]

[Public Video, later]

[Scott looks really weirded out. Like. Really. For a moment he just stares into the camera; it passes, and he shakes his head like he needs to physically clear it.]

Okay, so...I guess I was asleep for a while. Sorry, if that freaked anyone out. [A beat.] It's totally freaking me out.

Anyway, I'm back, so if anyone needs me, uh, I'm here? I guess I never actually left...[He mutters the last to himself, and decides to turn the feed off there before he starts babbling incoherently.]

[Private to Clementine]

How are you?

[It's not a lead in to something else. It's not just polite small talk. When he asks, he means it. He's worried about her, because in the unlikely chance she needed him, he wasn't awake to answer.]

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[He knows. He knows it's messed up and bad, and when Scott just stares at him it only makes him feel worse about it. Again. He ducks his head, avoiding direct eye contact. Not his proudest moment by a long shot.]

I mean, I've gotten in fights and stuff but that was the worst thing. I've got intermittent explosive disorder, I'm supposed to be on medication for it. But it's been a lot better since I started hanging out with you guys.

[Well. Better, different...it's hard to say that the werewolf version is really BETTER. It's just easier to get him out of it. Theoretically.]

Unless you mean like. Things like that here.

[All of a sudden, he feels bad for staring, feels bad for making Liam avoid his eyes and lower his head. Scott ducks his own briefly, just trying to absorb everything. Intermittent explosive disorder. Why wasn't that cured, like his asthma? And what could that do to a werewolf?

The last makes him lift his head again, blinking. There was Mickey, but Liam doesn't seem like the kind of person you just want to punch in the face.

(He doesn't seem like Jackson, basically.)

Scott shrugs lightly, looking for Liam's eyes again.]

Has anything happened here? Stiles said you're not totally in control, yet.

[His gaze flicks back up towards the other, the rest of him still hunched over in something like submission. Like a kid trying to explain bad behavior to a parent, and it's stupid, it's not like Scott's that much older than he is, not like there's any reason to feel guilty about it when he hasn't even done anything, but this whole thing is surreal. Weird. Feels like he needs to be careful what he says, what he does, because Scott doesn't have all the pieces here. He doesn't want to disappoint him right out of the gate, doesn't want him to think that maybe it's a bad idea.]

Nothing that bad. A couple fights.

[One which had to be broken up before it got too bad, sure, but at the end of the day it didn't. And he tried, and he's pretty sure it was progress.]

But he's right, I'm still learning. A couple people said I'm supposed to find an anchor? But nothing really...works yet.

[It's weird, because for a few seconds, he feels so much older than Liam. It makes him antsy, but he stays still, watching and listening because. Because - well, because Liam needs him. Scott nods, stops himself from demanding who those fights were with. He's not Liam's dad. He can only be his friend.]

Yeah, it's just....something to keep you grounded, you know? Something that keeps you calm, and yourself. Do you have anything like that?

[He shakes his head, apologetic even though he knows it's stupid to be. They'll figure it out, he knows they will. Scott already said he would.]

Not really. My therapist tried to work on that kind of stuff before the werewolf thing but we haven't really figured out anything that works yet. Just the meds.

[Scott hesitates at first, because it's something personal that he's about to share with someone who's almost a perfect stranger. But he pushes himself to his feet, mostly just to be moving.]

Mine was Allison.

[He falters, then, because he doesn't know what he hast to explain and what he doesn't.] She was, um. My girlfriend. She kept me calm, when I was still trying to figure out how not to wolf out in the middle of class.

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