[It doesn't seem to be working, and he feels a horrible flare of remembered panic - it's not working, why isn't it working - but the wheels start spinning before the freak out gets moving. She's immune to everything, maybe she's even immune to the good things.
He nods at her thanks, withdrawing his hand. He doesn't feel much like being thanked right now.]
Yeah.
[He's not sure: maybe they are idiots, maybe the Admiral is right. He runs a hand over his jaw. Maybe Lydia's right, and the Admiral's the idiot. He closes his eyes for a second, just to push it all away. When he opens them, he draws a breath and can't quite find the right words, so he goes for the obvious ones.]
I'm sorry, Lydia, I am so-- [He knows she'll tell him not to apologize, but an apology doesn't feel good enough. None of it does.]
Stiles | Scott | Lydia Spam
He nods at her thanks, withdrawing his hand. He doesn't feel much like being thanked right now.]
Yeah.
[He's not sure: maybe they are idiots, maybe the Admiral is right. He runs a hand over his jaw. Maybe Lydia's right, and the Admiral's the idiot. He closes his eyes for a second, just to push it all away. When he opens them, he draws a breath and can't quite find the right words, so he goes for the obvious ones.]
I'm sorry, Lydia, I am so-- [He knows she'll tell him not to apologize, but an apology doesn't feel good enough. None of it does.]