semifreakingnormal | ( 012 ) Ω ( Video )

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( 012 ) Ω ( Video )

[He's been back about an hour, just sitting in his room. It's not that he doesn't want to be here. He does. He needs to be here, to make things right again, and still all he wants is to rewind the clock, to go back to weeks ago, before their darkness spilled out into the world. Everything had looked bright. Okay. And now...

Now he understands why Stiles didn't want him to go back. Nothing will be like it was. Not until he saves Allison.

And he can't do that by letting people think he isn't here. He gets up, splashes water on his face, stares at himself in the mirror until he thinks his expression is normal. It's close enough. Drying off, he goes back to sit on the bed and picks up the communicator. When it clicks on, he smiles, and it's still Scott underneath, even if it's not quite as bright. He's older, though, only a year but it feels longer. His hair is shorter, he looks stronger. He's trying to hide the rest, and doing a decent job of it. But only decent.]

Hey, guys. I'm back.

[He waves his free hand. Semi-awkward Scott McCall is still under the new haircut! And is that a tattoo peeking out from under his left sleeve?]

So, did I miss anything good? I think...I was a troll, the last flood. How long ago was that?

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[He does.

The tears fall faster, and his hands dig into Stiles' shirt. He's careful not to lose control, not to slice up his shirt accidentally. Scott chokes on a sob, and then he breathes around it, around the discomfort and the wet ache in his eyes.

It doesn't last long. Scott doesn't like crying, doesn't like crying for long enough to hit that exhausted, do-nothing point. He gets out the worst of it, getting Stiles' shoulder wet in the process, and eventually he swallows it back, straightens up and wipes his eyes with his sleeve.]

Sorry, [he mumbles, even though he knows he doesn't have to. He sniffs, shakes his head like he can clear it.]

[He lets Scott pull away without comment, not caring about his wet shirt. It's just a shirt. He keeps his hand on his friend's back though, feeling like he probably still needs the light contact. Or maybe Stiles does.

He shakes his head, because no, an apology is definitely not necessary. Ever. Not with the two of them. Not for this, especially.]

Do you...wanna talk about it?

Not really? [He manages a smile, even if it vanishes pretty quickly. He shrugs a moment later, shaking his head. It's loss. He's at a loss.] I don't know what say anymore. It sucks. It shouldn't have happened. But we already know that.

[He draws in a deep breath. Regression to the mean.]

And we're already doing everything we can to change it.

[He scrubs at his face with both hands.] It won't hurt this bad forever. [They'll learn to cope with it. They might get used to the idea of her not being around, but they'll stay here because they won't forget her. They'll fix it.]

I just - it sucks, trying to remember that.

[He isn't surprised by Scott's response. He looks down at his hands, nodding slightly at his words. He doesn't know what to say either. And it definitely shouldn't have happened.]

Yeah. Yeah, we are. And we'll change it. [Allison, Aiden. The officers that were killed in the bomb explosion at the sheriff's station. All of it.

He's silent for a moment. Because it does hurt -- sharp and constant, even for him. And he and Allison weren't even close.]

I know, man. [And he does. He's heard that it won't hurt this bad forever so many times from so many people over the years. And it takes time. Neither is really all that comforting. Nothing really is, at the end of the day.]

I know it's not a lot, but...I'm here. Whenever and for whatever.

I know.

[Another small smile, and Scott nods. He reaches up, resting his hand on Stiles' arm, squeezing lightly.]

I'm glad you're here, Stiles. [It's not that he would have no one, if he'd still caught up without Stiles here. He'd be sitting with Cassel, or Peter, and it would be good, but it wouldn't be the same. Stiles is his brother in almost every way. He doesn't have to explain things to Stiles. He doesn't have to tell Stiles who Allison is. Who Aiden is.

Were. He can't accept that tense, not yet.]

Seriously.

[The fact that Scott can still say that after everything -- and not only say it but mean it -- pretty much confirms his belief that his best friend not only has the biggest, most forgiving heart of anyone ever, but that he's basically the best guy Stiles will likely ever know. He got very, very lucky in the best friend department.]

Me too. [And he means it. The last few weeks have massively sucked for all of them, and in a lot of ways it feels like it's been ages since they've actually been around each other. They'd been around each other quite a bit -- he just hadn't been himself. He doesn't think it counts.

But now there's work to be done. They have lives to save and he's determined it's going to work. Because there's not another option. It has to work. He owes it to everyone to make sure that it does.]

[It doesn't really count. They're on the same wave length now, Stiles isn't possessed, Scott isn't afraid of losing control. When he's not crying, anyway.

Straightening a little, he claps his hand against Stile's shoulder, resting there a moment.]

It's probably going to take a while. I mean, we might be here a while.

[And he means a lot of things with that: that he won't blame Stiles if he ever wants to go home, that he's not leaving until Allison is drawing breath again, that they can do this together and they can make it because they always do. It means whatever they need it to mean.]

I know. [And he does. He isn't expecting this to be anymore of a walk in the park than things back in Beacon Hills, really. Maybe even less so. Considering it's a prison ship with a lot of dangerous people in a confined space, he's leaning toward less so. He also senses the other meanings behind Scott words and he nods very slightly to indicate his understanding.]

I don't care how long it takes. [His words are quiet and he looks down for a moment, folding his hands on his lap and then glancing at Scott, knowing he feels the same way. There's not a doubt in Stiles' mind about that.] I missed you, man. I mean, not just...when you were back home from here.

[Scott lets out a relieved breath he didn't realize he was holding. As long as it takes.]

Yeah. Me neither.

[Squeezing Stiles' shoulder, he drops his hand and nods.]

I know. I missed you too. [Same wave length. It's always so easy to understand Stiles, even when it felt like Stiles was a thousand percent smarter than him. There are other things they get, other things they connect on.]

Maybe in a couple days - there's a pool table, on level six. Maybe we can go play. Or you can help me get a lacrosse game going. I feel like I've been trying to since I first showed up.

[He offers him a small, reassuring smile.]

I know.

[Always the same wave length, since they were kids. They've always just gotten one another in a way that no one else really does. And if Stiles is the brains, Scott is definitely the heart of their little friendship duo. They balance each other.

Stiles glances at Scott sideways, faint smile on his mouth. He can't even remember the last time he played pool.]

Yeah, definitely. I talked to one guy while you were gone -- uh, Archer, I think was his name? He said he plays? I know Dean doesn't. But my gear's in my room, so that's a nice happy accident. What about gear for everybody else though?

Last Christmas, we kinda wrote like, Santa letters to the Admiral. I asked for gear for a whole bunch of people. There might even be some in the gym - Cassel works there, we can get him to check.

[It's a little easier to breathe, and a little easier to smile. To let the distraction take hold. You can't spend every waking moment miserable. Sometimes the best thing you can do, is put the brakes on and find a way to enjoy yourself, just for a little while.]

Archer told me he played when he was in school, so he'd totally be up for it. And maybe we can like, guilt Dean into it. Some other people might play, too. We can totally get this moving.

Peter can even be on your team. [Because obviously they are team captains. u_u]

Dude. That's awesome. [And somehow he's not surprised that's what Scott wished for for Christmas -- stuff for other people.]

Think Cassel would play? And Dean mentioned someone named Alex, but I have no idea who that is.

[He grins at Scott's suggestion, even if it will be kind of weird playing on an actual team against him. Lacrosse seems like it would be a good thing to use to deal with things. Help both of them deal with things. He tries to think of the other people he's met, but he hasn't talked to them about lacrosse at all.]

[Christmas is awesome on the Barge: he made out like a bandit.]

He says he won't, but I think he will. [With proper motivation.] He's not really into sports, but whatever. He'll learn to like lacrosse. [Because who wouldn't?]

Yeah, Alex will play - he sounded interested, back when I first brought it up.

[It's so much easier talking about this. The weight is still there on his shoulders, but not thinking about it makes it a little easier to bear.]

We're totally doing this.

Between the two of us we can talk him into. [Because they just can.]

Who's Alex, anyway?

[It is easier to talk about this, even if it's just briefly. Some semblance of normalcy is needed if they're going to get through however long it takes to complete their deals.]

Hell yes.

Alex Summers? Blond guy, kinda gruff. I don't know him that well yet, but he seems like a good guy.

[The name has not clicked yet. Scott Summers he'd recognize, but it's been a while since he read comics with any regularity.]

[It's not ringing a bell for Stiles, either, so he just shrugs, willing to go with Scott's assessment of the guy.]

I'm sure we can find enough people to play anyway.

Totally. Maybe after a flood or something - that's usually a good time. Lots of people need distractions.

Oh, good idea. That makes sense. We should definitely practice before then though. I might be rusty.

Tomorrow? The CES'll be good for it.

[Tomorrow will give him breathing room, enough time to take a giant step forward in regards to his grief.]

[He tries to remember what the CES is. He knows someone told him on his first day, but his mind is far from clear lately.]

What's the CES?

It's...[His brow creases for a moment, and he leans back with the realiztion.] I have...no idea what it stands for. But it's like, this floor above the deck, you go in and it's a forest, or a beach, or whatever. I think most of the time it does some place you're familiar with - I'm pretty sure it was the Preserve, the first time I went in.

Like a computer generated hologram of places? [Whoa. That's...interesting.]

I guess? I mean, it's not a hologram, like. It all feels real. Looks, smells, probably tastes, too. [But he is not going to catch a bunny without his little werewolf oven u_u]

[That's something. He's going to have to check this place out soon for curiosity's sake. Because curiosity never leads to badness. Nope.]

Okay that sounds kind of cool. It's just places, though, right? I mean...you don't ever see people there? [Like his dad. Or Allison. Stiles would be glad to know Scott isn't planning to eat raw bunny anytime soon. >.<]

No, no people or buildings. Like, I've never seen Beacon Hills in there. Just the Preserve, going waaaay further than it should.

[Anything else would probably royally mess with him.]

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