betamax | 001 ☾ tick tick boom

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[game]: lastvoyages

001 ☾ tick tick boom

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[He wakes up in bed with a mouth full of ash, or at least that's how it tastes and a splitting headache like the vodka he'd been mixing his punch with finally caught up to him. But Scott said that didn't work for them, that they couldn't get drunk, let alone hungover, and anyway it wouldn't explain the taste in his mouth.

Slowly, it comes to him. The pulsating sound in the back of his head, the feeling of being drunk even when he shouldn't have been. Getting dragged somewhere, blurry, dizzying shapes passing by, looming. Hard, cold metal at his back, and then getting doused in kerosene, the shadowy figure with the booming voice asking him questions, and once everything caught up, he bolted out of bed. Lunged for the door, jerked at the handle a few times before finally just pushing. It gave way easily as panic rose, as the rest of sense memory returned; the buzzing in his head, the harsh smell coating his skin, the inside of his nose, the blurry image of cops standing over them, and he could feel himself losing it, claws pushing out of his fingertips, the growl building in his chest, but he didn't care.

They tried to kill him. It wasn't new but he was sick of it, sick of getting hurt, sick of being afraid, but he wasn't the only one who'd gotten hurt because of him this time. Scott, Malia, he needed to find them, needed to make sure they were okay, like the shadow-man had said they would be, and the howl that clawed its way from his throat as he stepped into the hallway, as he scampered down the hallway in search of familiar scents, desperate and plaintive like it had been when he was stuck in the well, was all instinct.

Help. Pack. Where are you.]

[PUBLIC -- Video]

[Later, after he's had a chance to calm down, after everything's broadened out, dulled into something he can process, something less intense, he retreats to his room. He remembers now, more clearly. He washes the gasoline off, scrubs and scrubs until he can't smell it anymore, trashes the clothes and finds the phone that isn't his, sorts through the functions before getting it set up.

Not that he has any clue what to say.

He looks more than a little lost. Looks entirely too young to be on the ship at all, but he can't do anything about that now, and judging by the determined set of his jaw he doesn't seem to think it should matter too much. He chews his lip absently, takes a breath.

Okay. He can do this. No sweat. Never mind that he's already made an impression in exactly the way he didn't want to.]

Hey. So you got stars here. That's...cool, I guess?

[Yeah nobody mind the kid who was running around as the wolf boy earlier. He's fine. You didn't see that, right?]

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[There have only been a handful of times in his life where Stiles has been rendered speechless for any length of time, but that's exactly what he is right now. Scott bit someone. Scott turned someone.]

He caught you from falling off a roof and...turned you into a werewolf.

[No, that can't be right. It can't be. It doesn't make any sense, unless Liam had been so severely hurt that Scott felt he had no choice but to try and turn him to save his life.]

He caught my arm with his mouth and kind of. Bit me by accident. So. I don't think he really like. Meant to or anything.

[That makes more sense. Sort of. It's still kind of disorienting. But hell, if Stiles is disoriented by it then Liam is probably even more so. He takes a deep breath.]

Okay, I don't know if you've talked to any of the others, but uh, Scott's sort of. Pretending he's Sleeping Beauty.

[He shifts the communicator over so Liam can see Scott curled up asleep.]

Do you -- want to come hang out though?

[His head bobs, maybe acceptance of Scott's current state, maybe acceptance of the offer, it's not immediately obvious.]

Yeah, that's what...that's what Kira said. I think.

[He stares at the image all the same though, a mix of the near-constant confusion he's had since he got here and concern etched into his features. There's something inherently wrong about the situation, and anyway he has to go. He spent his entire freak-out trying to find him, he can't wuss out now.]

Yeah, if that's okay?

[Like it might not be, like there might be a reason they would keep him out. Not like he knows if the others have told Stiles anything, after all.]

[Stiles agrees that the situation is really wrong. Everything about it is wrong. But he's still not willing to concede to the idea that Scott might not wake up. He doubts he'll ever be ready to concede to that point.]

Yeah, it's fine. We're in 105. It's Scott's.

[He's barely been to his own room since he and the others retrieved Scott from the vet's clinic a couple weeks ago.]

Door's unlocked.

Okay. I'll see you when I get there.

[He's coming from practically the basement, so it takes a little while before he knocks on the door briefly and lets himself in.]

Hey.

[He knows the room well enough, or at least has been there before, so he looks for Scott, not that it takes long to find him.]

...have you talked to Kira about fixing it? I mean...she did it before.

[Stiles glances up from his laptop when the door opens and Liam walks in. He arches his eyebrows, studying him for a moment as the younger boy looks at Scott's unconscious form.]

What do you mean? How did she fix it? [And the fact that Scott's apparently been in a coma before is alarming, to say the least. Except it isn't before for Stiles. It's in the future. Which sorta makes it even more confusing to think about.]

[Liam's attention doesn't waver from Scott for a while; he steps closer, finds a chair and drags it next to the bed before dropping into it, watching him carefully. He doesn't like this. He didn't like it the last time, he likes it less now, and never mind that at least he doesn't look dead this time.

"At least he doesn't look dead this time" should never be an improvement for anything. Shouldn't have to be a comparison.]

She shocked him. Like when somebody's heart stops. And he woke up and everything was fine.

How long's he been like this?

[His eyebrows raise at that and he glances over at Scott with worried eyes before looking back at Liam again. He exhales slowly, weariness settling over his shoulders all over again.]

Couple weeks now.

What happened at home? Why was he in a coma? [He chews his thumbnail absently.]

[He glances over, quick to catch the worried expression and equally quick to backpedal.]

No, it wasn't anything bad, I swear. I mean...it was kind of bad, but it wasn't like it happened because of something else. It was a trap for somebody else, we had to make everyone think he was dead. Kira did...something to him, I'm not really sure what.

[The tiny pieces of the puzzle are only adding up to make Stiles have a lot more questions.]

So he wasn't in a coma and he wasn't actually dead, but people thought he was dead because we set a trap for somebody involving a deadpool?

[Liam huffs in frustration; he's not explaining it right, he knows that, but it's not like he followed any part of what was going on at the time past "this is a really really bad and stupid idea". He stares at Scott, as if he has all the answers, or could at least provide them if he stared hard enough, before finally giving it up. Tries to find somewhere to sit down.]

I think Kira's mom called it fox fire or something. But she touched him and he was basically in a coma for almost forty minutes. We had to make him seem dead so we could try to figure out who was behind the deadpool. Somebody was supposed to come check it for themselves.

[He can practically feel the younger man's frustration and he decides to drop the questioning for the moment. When Scott wakes up, Liam will have to go over all of this again, and it's not like Stiles can do anything about the stuff going on at home from the Barge anyway. He watches the way Liam stares so intently at Scott, as if he's willing him to wake up.

Stiles has been doing the same thing for the last two weeks.]

I've been reading to him.

[He's not sure what makes him tell Liam that, but he reaches out and picks up his worn copy of Harry Potter.]

[He doesn't know what to do with Scott like this. Scott always knows what to do, always has all the answers. Or seems to, anyway. Liam refuses to resign himself to the fact that Scott might not know him either; he might, it's always a possibility, and if he doesn't....he doesn't know what he'll do then. It was bad enough trying to explain it all to Stiles.]

Does it help?

[Stiles nods a little, even though truthfully he's not sure. But he thinks it helps. Melissa McCall once told him that people in comas could hear you talking to them. Either way, it helps him. Calms his nerves. He looks down at the book, then holds it out to Liam.]

Wanna take over for awhile?

[He lets out a brief, dismissive rush of air, at least at first. It seems ridiculous, reading to somebody who may or may not be able to hear you. Like it might fix things. But it's been longer than the forty minutes they had to worry about, and he's still alive. He knows because he keeps watching his chest rise and fall, almost compulsively, as if he's afraid it will stop if he looks away. Whatever happened, it's different than what they did.

But he spares a moment to look over when Stiles asks, eyeing the book.]

You sure?

Edited 2015-02-09 01:55 (UTC)

[Stiles nods a little and hands the book over to him. He doesn't know if it'll help Liam or not, but hopefully it will. And right now he's pretty sure the kid's nerves need to be soothed even worse than his own do.]

I marked the page where I left off.

[He spends another couple seconds considering, then reaches for the book, opens to the page and looks over the words.]

You couldn't find anything a little...happier to read to him?

[He settles against the headboard once Liam takes the book from him, but his eyes narrow at Liam's questioning of his book choice.]

It's Harry Potter.

I can read, I know what it is. But...I dunno. Considering everything we deal with, you really think more supernatural weirdness is what he wants to hear about?

[He's not really protesting. He just...needs to get things off his chest. It's been a rough couple days.]

[He almost reiterates that it's Harry Potter again. But he reins it in for the moment. Decides to go the more honest route instead.]

Whenever I was sick, my mom would read it to me.

[His gaze drops to Scott's still form and he shrugs a shoulder.]

...oh.

[Well now he feels like shit. Not that he really knows the situation, but he's hung out with the gang long enough now to know Mrs Stilinski is out of the picture for one reason or another.]

I'm not saying it's a bad choice. I'm sure it's fine.

[He hadn't been trying to make Liam feel bad. He was just explaining the choice of book. He shrugs it off and makes a motion with his hand for the kid to start reading. He closes his eyes and rests comfortably back the headboard, a yawn escaping him.]

[He'll read. He'll read until the words start blurring together and his throat goes dry, not because he's especially good at reading out loud, or really enjoys it, or really even has any special attachment to Harry Potter, but it's something. And if Stiles says he thinks it helps, well. He has to do something, for everything Scott's done for him so far. He stops every now and then to watch Scott, to see if it seems to have any effect, and of course it doesn't, it's just reading, he knows rationally it's stupid to expect it will, but it doesn't stop him from checking anyway.]

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