arcanarumlogs | And I'm scared, but not that scared

Who: Scott, Stiles, Erica, and Derek
When: November 25th
Where: On the road to and at Erica and Derek's House
What: Wolves are stronger in numbers and even without wolf instincts, they're all drawn together. A worried Scott and Stiles hurry to check up on Erica and Derek, and productivity hopefully ensues.
Warnings: None at the moment.

It's not a long walk from the Rose District into the Violet, thankfully, but Scott stays as close to Stiles as possible. Mouth shut tight the entire way–so much so he doesn't realise he's grinding his teeth– Scott keeps his eyes on the communicator, reflexively grasping at the bottom of Stiles's shirt each time he feels Stiles has drifted a few paces too far away from him.

As much as he would hate to admit it, he's more shaken up than he's showing right now. Scott doesn't want to be here. More than that, he doesn't want Stiles or Erica to have to be here. Derek could probably handle it; even without wolf powers, the man was sort of like a mac truck. But Stiles had told him before– he didn't feel he could deal with these kind of things. Scott knew he was wrong; if there was anyone more capable, it was Stiles. It just wasn't fair that Stiles had been dragged into these things one after another, and it was mostly Scott's fault. It hadn't been this time, but Stiles had been here alone for a whole month without Scott to help him, and that put a huge twist of guilt in his stomach.

And then there was Erica. Alright, Erica'd been kind of a downright bitch every once– okay, most of the time– but she still didn't deserve to have to deal with her epilepsy again. That had been most of the reason she'd even agreed to Derek's proposal and even if Scott thought the bite was more harm than good, he couldn't really blame her. He knew it had to be hard; if he had been just a second later to witnessing the last seizure she'd had as a human, Erica might have been hurt much worse.

Now they had no contact to their families, to his mom or Allison...

Lost in his thoughts, he walks right past the house they're looking for, but keeps reaching for Stiles's shirt. He turns around to face Stiles, frowning in confusion.

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"...Only one way to find out, right?" His expression shifted a little, turning over to glance at Erica. Stiles could probably guess what kind of medicine she was using--he'd known Scott's off the top of his head from years of carrying one around in his bag for safekeeping. "As long as it's not expressly labeled with your name, it should be fine."

The reminder of Erica's condition coming back was a cold one. It was hard to imagine her the same as she'd been before the bite, and Stiles frowned as he leaned forward on his knees. Whatever had (or hadn't) occurred between them had put Erica firmly on his radar, and the thought of her having a seizure here on the island, with no medicine or...well, it wasn't something pleasant to think about.

"Think of it this way--you get to go into a raid completely blind. Y'know, like me." The last bit was a dry addendum, and he shifted back into the chair, rolling his head to look at Derek as he discussed the actual castle.

"We'll find a way. We always do; being human doesn't change that," Derek offers to Erica, voice calm and even despite the frustrations that come with their newfound status. He worries for Erica and Scott both, and is overwhelmingly disoriented at times when he knows he should have information-- scent, sound, sight, everything-- but doesn't have it. "But it's going to take a lot more time than it would've before."

And it's then that he really focuses on the wishing aspect of this place, because time and effort are required for the castle. Now? Now, they only have what they currently know about the place. It doesn't make sense. You can't just create something without having resources to do it. Nothing materializes out of thin air like that without a price, and he has a feeling it's eventually going to come bite them on the ass.

But all the same...

"If that's the case, then you can give the three of us your prescription information and we can wish it up for you. That way, you won't run the risk of not being able to have it at any point in time." There's a wariness in him as he says it, but a conviction that he won't let anything happen to Erica that overpowers his paranoia.

"Especially if we do try to get into the castle. We'll have to get through the forest around it first, though."

Despite still being in moderate denial about her once again human status, Erica can't exactly ignore the fact that without her medication, a seizure is almost guaranteed. High stress situations (like, you know, being taken away from your home) only made it more likely. So while she doesn't even want to ask for it, let along make them ask for it, it's not like she's exactly been given a choice.

She sounds out the name of her medication, pausing for a moment to consider what dosage to ask for, before defaulting to what she normally relied on at home. If all three of them wish for it, at least it would last her for a long while -- at least until she was able to go home.

"Yeah, but Stiles, the difference is that you running blind into something is that you had werewolves supporting you at least for part of whatever was going on. Now we have nothing."

Except for, you know, an epileptic, an asthmatic, and Stiles. Derek could, at least, physically hold his own even with being human again.

"Hey, me and Stiles got through a lot of things before, alright?" Scott almost seems snappy about it– though the look on his face shows he's apologetic for it.

He pulls his hand over his shoulder, looking a bit uncomfortable. "I just mean... we've handled shit, okay? We'll be fine. We'll find a way out of this. Let's just... try wishing."

Closing his eyes, Scott makes his wish-- and when the orange bottle materialises in his hands, he can't help but jump. He passes it to Erica immediately for her to check the dose, marvelling at the fact that, well... it worked. Wishing.

Stiles did the same as Scott, wishing for the bottle--and for a bottle of adderall, too. It's a crutch, but it's a useful crutch, and the last thing he needs is to be detailing the history of the island or something when his parts are being exchanged for female ones.

Setting them down on the small table in the middle of the room, Stiles can't help but comment, rolling his eyes. It's not necessarily mean spirited, but he can't help but be annoyed. "Seriously, is the lack of optimism just a werewolf thing? It's going to be fine. There are four of us now, and if they're going to try and hack us into nasty little human sized pieces, or god only knows what else, then it's harder to get four than it is to get one. And the less time we spend freaking out about our sudden less than shiny humanity, the faster we can get off this island."

As an afterthought, he adds, "The collective we. I'm used to the squishy human thing."

Derek lets them have their exchange calmly, more interested in the mechanics of wishing. He does the same as Scott and Stiles, but he doesn't pass the pill bottle over to Erica when it materializes. Instead, he examines it, memorizing the look and feel of it, all the information on it. And when he feels like he just knows what it is, could probably recite it effortlessly, he pockets it. Because he's not going to be caught without it, in case Erica might need it.

He makes a mental note to ask about what Scott's prescription is for his inhaler, but he doubts there'll be a moment where it's necessary for him to carry it. Stiles already has that covered.

Once they're done with their exchange, the boys irritable in a way that doesn't surprise him, he cocks his head and exhales slowly on a heavy sigh.

"It's hard not to think of the worse case scenario, but we've gotten through plenty of those, as a collective and individually. We'll be fine, regardless of whatever they have planned."

And I'm scared, but not that scared

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/craptag

sasses you

eyeroll