Hmm? [Stiles blinked a few times, slow on registering Sam's words.] There's some on my desk...my locker...my backpack...Scott's house...the kitchen...I keep 'em everywhere.
[Sam was relieved to see the teen's backpack in the passenger seat of the car, and he gently sat Stiles down in the driveway before pawing through it. Finding the bottle, he carefully read over all the warnings, lungs remembering to breath when he saw there were no adverse side effects to using alcohol while on the medication.]
I come home and find him drunk. [Stiles shrugged, not bothered by the statement like he normally would when not under the influence.]
I don't want to be here when he gets back...I want to go see the stars. [Stiles turned towards the car, falling inside of it as he reached for his phone on the passenger's seat.] I can call Scott if you don't want to go...
[Sam knew better than to argue with a drunk person's logic. The fact that his dad was allowed to drink would make no difference to the inebriated teen.]
Stiles, if your father comes home and you're not here, he'll be worried about you.
Doesn't matter, he always worries about me. [Stiles lurched up, holding the phone. He opened it upside down, confused when the buttons weren't where they were supposed to be.] He knows I lie to him.
...My house wouldn't be empty. [Stiles thought for a second, following the trail of his phone with his eyes as Sam took it from him. Stiles didn't stop him, though, and nodded a little.]
I made it down them...didn't I? [The question wasn't sarcastic, but in fact a genuine question as Stiles looked around, momentarily confused by his surroundings.]
I always fall. No werewolf reflexes to stop me. [Stiles snorted, fingers wrapping around Sam's wrist as he slowly lead the way into the house in a haphazard, drunken zigzag.]
[Stiles hadn't even locked the front door when he'd left, and led Sam through it, giggling when he tripped over the door-frame. Alcohol really didn't do anything for his already-sucky coordination.]
I almost had them. Almost. [Stiles rambled, nearly crashing into the wall as he headed for the stairs.] I think the fire was scarily poetic. That's like, full circle literary-symmetry shit...
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Let's get you inside.
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Your dad will kill you if he comes home and finds you drunk.
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I don't want to be here when he gets back...I want to go see the stars. [Stiles turned towards the car, falling inside of it as he reached for his phone on the passenger's seat.] I can call Scott if you don't want to go...
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Stiles, if your father comes home and you're not here, he'll be worried about you.
It's already late. You need to sleep.
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You need to go inside and go to sleep.
[Sam gently took the phone from him, trying to get the teen to focus on his face.]
What if I stay with you?
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Can you make it up the stairs or should I carry you?
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You can try, but I'll be right behind you if you fall.
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I almost had them. Almost. [Stiles rambled, nearly crashing into the wall as he headed for the stairs.] I think the fire was scarily poetic. That's like, full circle literary-symmetry shit...
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