And I'm scared, but not that scared

[puppyface]

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.

Comments

[impenitent]

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.

/craptag

[puppyface]

"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.

sasses you

[hypercompetent]

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."

eyeroll

[triskeles]

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."