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[Okay. He learned from the last time. He doesn't have to apologize. That doesn't mean he's not struggling with the memories of what he did.

Scott's eyes aren't quite red rimmed, but he is far from relaxed. It's obvious he's broadcasting from the infirmary: there still some structural damage around as the Admiral slowly fixes things.]

I'm, um.

[Sorry sorry sorry sorry. He swallows it back, draws in a shaky breath.]

I'm in the infirmary. [He looks around over his shoulder.] Obviously. I know there's not a lot the doctors can do for people who are death tolling. But one of the things I learned at home can help. I can take away pain, when I touch people. So, I'll - I'll be here. I'l be around. Just let me know if you're hurting, and I'll make it better for a while.

[He doesn't mention that he takes the pain on himself. He hopes Stiles and Dean won't say anything, either. It feels like penance, though that's not the only reason he's offering. If he can help people and feel like he's scouring away his guilt, well...then he's going to.]

[Private to Peter]

You were right. I'm definitely thanking you after.

Are you okay?

[Spam for Stiles and Lydia]

[He's been at her bedside in the infirmary since they reappeared back on the Barge, waiting for her to wake up. He knows she will. Knows it deep in his gut, because the Admiral hasn't failed them like this. He won't leave her there, and he won't leave her dead.

There's a whisper of doubt in his thought, and he's doing the best he can to banish it. It leaves his throat and mouth dry, and he doesn't know what to do.

Looking over the bed at Stiles, he draws in breath to say something, anything, but he can't. It wasn't him, but he remembers tearing her throat out, he remembers Stiles' face when it happened, and he has to look down at his hands again.]

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Does anyone? I mean call me crazy, but I kinda feel like no one wants to do this again.

Right? [He lifts his head to raise his voice at the ceiling.]

Hear that Admiral? Let's not do that again! Like, ever.

You tell him.

Have you been down here this whole time?

Yeah, I mean. What's the point of being able to make people feel better if I don't do it when they need it, you know?

[Self-flagellation.]

Yeah. [He gets that, and he's felt first hand how helpful that new superpower is when you're hurting. He's still curious about how it works, but it kind of seems like something no one here's really going to get. Maybe.]

I'm glad you're okay.

Yeah. Ditto. [He reaches out to squeeze Peter's shoulder.] And thanks, man. Seriously. Thanks.

[Peter shrugs the opposite shoulder.]

Look, I know if it was me, you'd do the same thing. Even if you wouldn't, I'd still do it.

You're a really good guy, Scott. [sry he might be a tiny bit high right now, but he does mean it, so.]

Dude, I totally wouldn't. No way, sorry, I don't like getting shot.

[But he's smiling, because of course. Of course he would. He hates getting shot, but it's kind of happened a lot, now.

He ducks his head, squeeze's Peter's shoulder again.]

You are too, man.

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