Stiles does consider that answer for a long moment. "They do know Scott
broke my nose. Or, you know, the story we told my dad and his mom." He
doesn't know if they've told Derek that yet, and the last thing he wants is
Derek getting even more pissed at Scott for something he didn't do. "And
Scott's mom said something about mild concussions or whatever. I mean, I'm
out of school for a day, but that's it. And knowing my English teacher,
he'd fail me anyway. I don't know why they all have it out for me."
Maybe he knows a little. It's why Derek growls at him so much. People who
see potential being wasted in this scrawny, stubborn kid. He just doesn't
know what he can do about it. He can't be anyone else. But for some reason,
not all of them have given up on him. Derek's still there, and that's
surprising, but kind of reassuring. Like that grip on his ankle. He waits
as Derek settles in next to him, a little tentative, waiting for his
hormones to make everything weird, but he remains calm. He's just so tired.
Tired, and unhappy, and bruised all over in ways that aren't purely
physical.
"Sleeping isn't resting, not lately," he says, after a long pause,
unconsciously settling so he's got a little more contact with Derek. "Even
before the other night. I keep having dreams..." he trails off, remembering
again and forcing himself to suppress a shudder. Anticipation, discomfort,
a slow dread, and above it all just exhaustion. He's just so tired. Sleep
without dreams would be nice.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2014-10-11 05:37 pm (UTC)Stiles does consider that answer for a long moment. "They do know Scott broke my nose. Or, you know, the story we told my dad and his mom." He doesn't know if they've told Derek that yet, and the last thing he wants is Derek getting even more pissed at Scott for something he didn't do. "And Scott's mom said something about mild concussions or whatever. I mean, I'm out of school for a day, but that's it. And knowing my English teacher, he'd fail me anyway. I don't know why they all have it out for me."
Maybe he knows a little. It's why Derek growls at him so much. People who see potential being wasted in this scrawny, stubborn kid. He just doesn't know what he can do about it. He can't be anyone else. But for some reason, not all of them have given up on him. Derek's still there, and that's surprising, but kind of reassuring. Like that grip on his ankle. He waits as Derek settles in next to him, a little tentative, waiting for his hormones to make everything weird, but he remains calm. He's just so tired. Tired, and unhappy, and bruised all over in ways that aren't purely physical.
"Sleeping isn't resting, not lately," he says, after a long pause, unconsciously settling so he's got a little more contact with Derek. "Even before the other night. I keep having dreams..." he trails off, remembering again and forcing himself to suppress a shudder. Anticipation, discomfort, a slow dread, and above it all just exhaustion. He's just so tired. Sleep without dreams would be nice.