myonlydefense | (no subject)

The last time that Stiles thought about getting a job was before he'd ended up in Darrow. And in his head? All of the jobs were awesome. Movie theater attendant (free movies!), Gamestop clerk (~~free~~ slightly cheaper video games!), and all of that. None of it had ever happened, but his job at Gutters definitely was up there. He's surrounded by comic books all day - what could possibly be better for a first job?

...but when you're current on all the series you're reading and your friends aren't working, things tend to drag. He's already shelved all of the go-backs, made sure the junior high kids filtering in at the end of the school day didn't do too much damage... hell, he's even cleaned off the display case. With actual Windex. He's out of things to do, and he's always told himself that he was going to cut down on personal stuff at work - he's gunning for a manager position, after all - but god, he's bored, and could use a friend to talk to. Naturally, he texts Scott.

He's a little too excited when he hears the bell over the front door ring - especially since, the first time, it's just a mom looking for an issue of Superpower Guy - but he's visibly relieved when he finally sees Scott come in.

"Oh, thank god. I was dying."

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"Always happy to help," Scott said with a grin. "Especially since I'm not working today and Bay is." He came over to the counter, leaning against it. "So what's up?"

"This is the part where I'd normally make you start helping me stock shelves, but," he gestures to the pretty much impeccable shop, "I've been busy. Or bored. I'm not much of a substitute for the girlfriend, but hey."

He kicks his feet up on the counter from his place behind the counter. "I was gonna say I miss the good ol' days hanging with you, man, but I gotta say that this is better. There's no, you know. Immediate threat of death and dying now."

"Hey, I'm here for moral support only," Scott remarked, arching an eyebrow. Not that he really meant it. If there had been anything to stock, he would have been at Stiles' side, helping out.

"I know what you mean. It's kind of nice, being normal. Or, well...as normal as I get," he said with a wry grin. Aside from the whole turning into a werewolf thing, things were pretty normal, and it was nice. "But hey, it's not like we need danger and life-threatening mysteries to solve to hang out, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, man. I can only talk to you if one and/or both of us is on the brink of dying." He cracks a smile back, tossing a Red Bull in Scott's direction.

"And don't doom me to a life of normalcy just because I don't get wicked sideburns on the full moon. I'm a special brand of weird. My own man. Did you know I had an evil spirit kicking around in my head? That was a thing."

It's purposely ridiculously casual, because he doesn't know of any real normal way to bring it up.

Scott caught the drink and opened it, taking a sip. "And hey, I never said you were normal. You've never been normal," he added, smirking. The smirk faded to a small frown at the rest of what Stiles had to say. "Wait, what? When? Back home? In our future? What happened?" Okay, it was a lot of questions, but Stiles both spoke and talked fast. He could handle it without missing a beat.

Stiles knows this is a big deal, but it feels... weird making it a Thing now, now that the nogitsune, or whatever echo of it crossed over to Darrow, has left his head. Why freak Scott out over nothing?

Well, he tells him everything, right? He can just leave out the 'oh yeah, it kind of happened here' details. For a bit. "Back home. It's... I mean, you know. No big deal. Possession." He makes big eyes and waves his hands like that's just something they all know about.

"Caused a lot of shit, but it's... okay now. Oh, and I stabbed you in the stomach. And you bit me."

He pauses.

"Okay, so it's kind of a big deal."

Scott stared at him for a minute. "...Kind of," he agreed, his expression communicating what a monumental understatement that was. "Wait, how did you find out about this? Did someone tell you?" He suddenly felt painfully, frighteningly out of the loop.

"No, dude, no one told me," he says, pursing his lips and giving him a grim expression. It's been months, and yeah, apparently this is just a thing that happens in Darrow, but it's still freaky. "It... kind of started leaking into my head. Which sounds grosser than it is. I just started..."

This is not a fun conversation to have. "I just started having really bad dreams. And losing time. And... all sorts of fun things. But every time it happened, I started remembering stuff back home."

Things like Allison.

He takes a breath. "I was losing my mind, man. But I didn't want to freak any of you out."

"...Wait, are you serious? All of this was happening and you didn't tell me?" Not freaking him out wasn't a good excuse, it was a lame as hell one. After all they'd been through, after how freaky Scott's life had gotten...he'd still told Stiles all of it.

"What the hell, man? I mean...maybe I could have helped. Maybe I could have done something, figured out something..." Probably not, but the point was he would have tried. Stiles was his best friend, and nothing would change that, not turning into something out of a b-grade horror movie, not being whisked away to some other universe, and not dreams and memories that didn't belong to his best friend leaking into his head. Nothing.

Oh man, Scott is giving him that look like he wants to kill him. Out of concern, but you know. Still death. Stiles curls in defensively, putting a hand up as if to ward off any incoming smacks and/or punches - and throwing in a few preemptive swats of his own.

"I know, I know! Not my brightest move, I was just... there was a lot going on, okay?" Waking up screaming, dreams about Scott, about Derek, the waking dreams about people, conversations he'd never had - it had been overwhelming. He'd withdrawn from everyone - Scott, Derek, everyone. "Not my finest hour. I promise if I get any brain dumps in the future, you're the first one I freak out to, okay? And I... well, we figured it out. Someone figured it out."

One of the last things he remembers from back home, now, is some far and distant Scott McCall chomping on him with his fangs. It's disconcerting, but not quite as much so as everything else that happened. He tries not to think about what he did to Scott.

Scott sighed and only threw a half-hearted punch at Stiles' shoulder. There was nothing that could be done about it now, after all. "You'd better. Come on, we tell each other everything." The last was said with an undercurrent of hurt. Things hadn't been quite the same between them in Darrow, but Stiles keeping something like this to himself made Scott afraid he was losing his best friend, somehow.

"I... totally own that," he nods decisively, jaw jutting out as he sets it and meets Scott's eyes. He can't think of a time when he hasn't told Scott everything until they got here, and... well, it sucks, really.

He reaches out and takes Scott's shoulder, squeezing firmly. "I'm sorry, man. Full disclosure, here on out. I should've trusted you with it."

Scott nodded, trusting Stiles to keep his word. "Okay. Good." He smiled a little, then looked at him closely. "But...you're okay now? No more--bad dreams and all of that?"