robinonadderall (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
robinonadderall) wrote2012-12-12 10:22 am
robinonadderall) wrote2012-12-12 10:22 am
Entry tags:
Beacon Hills High | Morning
There was some policy or something at Beacon Hills High that said if a student had been through a traumatic event they had to see the guidance counselor at least once. Stiles knew Lydia had to do it after Peter attacked her and now anybody that had been close to Matt or were there the night he attacked the police station had to go see Ms. Morrell in the guidance office.
Stiles didn't have to go seeing as he wasn't a student there anymore but he figured his father would be more at ease if he went. He had to be here for the lacrosse championship game anyway. He just wanted to get it over and done with before Jack showed up in town tomorrow.
For all that Stiles mothered everyone and insisted they share their feelings, he was terrible when it came to expressing his own. He didn't like being exposed and was worried he'd scare people off with his emotions so he typically hid them under a careful layer of sarcasm and non-sequiturs. So sitting here in Ms. Morrell's office where she expected him to share his feelings was nothing short of torture.
Stiles did appreciate how Ms. Morrell wasn't pushing the issue. She had let Stiles ramble on about this and that while he re-stringed his lacrosse stick, letting Stiles get on the subject of Matt on his own time.
"How do you like your new school?" Ms. Morrell asked. "It's in Maryland, right?"
Stiles nodded. "I like it well enough."
"You seem to come home an awful lot for someone who likes it well enough," Ms. Morrell noted. Of course she'd know about Stiles' recent Beacon Hills detention. "You making friends there?"
"I think so," he said. "I mean, I hang out with people. Mostly adults."
"Do you find that strange?"
Stiles shrugged. "It's just who I ended up hanging out with."
"Tell me about them," Ms. Morrell said. "If you don't mind."
"Um, there's Mike? He works at a bar. He's nice, treats me like a kid brother or something. Kitty also works at a bar. She's pretty easy to talk to, gives good advice. Laurie's way too invested in my love life," Stiles said. "Jack's great. I haven't known him for long, but I feel like I can say anything to him and he won't judge too much. He's coming to watch the game tomorrow. And Derek...Derek's an ass, but he says he's doing it to keep me safe..."
Oh god now that he was saying it out loud he noticed a pattern going on.
And of course Ms. Morrell caught it. "Seems like you want protection. To be taken care of."
"I can take care of myself," Stiles said immediately. "I don't need help."
"Everybody needs help, Stiles," Ms. Morrell said. "I know it must seem like you have to take care of everything, especially after your mother's death--"
"We're not talking about that," Stiles said, looking up at Ms. Morrell. "We're here to talk about Matt."
"Did you have something to say about Matt?" Ms. Morrell asked. "You haven't really seemed interested in the subject since you sat down."
"Official cause of death was drowning. Odd for someone afraid of water. You know when you're drowning you don't actually inhale until right before you black out? It's called voluntary apnea," Stiles said. "It's like no matter how much you're freaking out that the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won't open your mouth until it feels like your head's exploding."
He really needed to stop going on Wikipedia on nights where he took too much Adderall.
"Then when you finally do let it in that's when it stops hurting," he continued as he tightened the strings of his lacrosse cradle. "It's not scary anymore. It's actually kind of peaceful."
"Are you saying you hope Matt felt peace in his last moments?" Ms. Morrell asked.
Stiles looked up at her. "I don't feel sorry for him."
He didn't. He didn't care if that made him a horrible person. Scott had caught Stiles up on why Matt did what he did and Stiles didn't feel any pity for him at all. Everyone had trauma to deal with, that didn't mean you had a free pass to kill people. Sure, sometimes he couldn't feel bad when people got what was coming to them (Peter had been a complete psycho but Stiles could see why he killed Kate Argent), but Matt had killed people for something that had been an accident.
Ms. Morrell didn't seem pleased with Stiles' answer. "Can you feel sorry for the nine-year-old Matt who drowned?"
"Just because a bunch of dumbasses dragged him into a pool when he couldn't swim doesn't really give him the right to kill them off one by one. And, by the way, my dad told me they found a bunch of pictures of Allison on Matt's computer. Not just of her though, he photoshopped himself into these pictures," Stiles told her. "Stuff like them holding hands and kissing. Like he had build this whole fake relationship."
Which was a whole level of sick and weird that even Stiles couldn't understand. "So, yeah, maybe drowning when he was nine was what set him off the rails but the dude was definitely riding the crazy train."
"One positive thing came out of this though, right?" Ms. Morrell asked.
Stiles nodded, knowing what she was referring to. His father had been reinstated as sheriff because of what happened at the station. "Yeah. But I feel like there's something wrong between us. There's tension when we talk. Same thing with Scott."
The Scott thing was what bothered him the most. He knew why he and his dad had tension, but the Scott thing wasn't entirely clear. He was sure Scott was hiding something from him and that hurt. Stiles was supposed to be the person he could tell anything to. Okay, he got that they hadn't been as close after Stiles had left for Fandom, but hadn't Stiles practically worn out Portalocity coming home every time Scott had asked?
He also knew there was some tension regarding Derek since Stiles had forged some weird friends-but-not-really thing there, but he didn't think it mattered since it wasn't actually the same Derek. He might've been wrong.
"Have you talked to him since that night?" Ms. Morrell asked.
"No, not really. I mean he's got his own problems to deal with though. I don't think he's talked to Allison either, but that might be more her choice. Her mom dying hit her pretty hard." That was yet another death that Stiles didn't feel sympathetic for. He felt bad that Allison was in pain, yeah, but her mother had tried to kill Scott.
"I guess it brought her and her dad closer together though," Stiles said. "And Jackson...Jackson hasn't really been himself lately. Actually the funny thing is, as of right now, Lydia's the only one of us that seems the most normal."
And it was so weird that a group that included both Jackson and himself counted as an "us". Stiles liked it better when they didn't hang around the same groups.
"What about you, Stiles?" Ms. Morrell asked. "Nervous about the championship game tomorrow night?"
Stiles had been using his teeth to tighten the strings on his lacrosse stick when the question filtered in. "Why would you ask me that?"
He spit out the rope so he could speak clearly. "No, I never actually play. But, hey, since one of my teammates is dead and another one's missing who knows?"
"You mean Isaac," she said. "One of the three runaways. You haven't heard from any of them have you?"
"Why aren't you taking any notes on this?" Ah, distraction.
"I do my notes after the session."
Stiles lifted an eyebrow. "Your memory's that good?"
Ms. Morrell smiled. "How about we get back to you, Stiles?"
"I'm fine," he said with a shrug. "You know, aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible's about to happen."
"It's called hypervigilance," she supplied. "The persistent feeling of being under threat."
"Maybe it's not just a feeling though," Stiles said. He knew it wasn't just a feeling. "It's--it's like a panic attack. Like I can't even breathe."
"Like you're drowning."
Stiles nodded. "Yeah."
"So you're drowning, and you're trying to keep your mouth closed until that very last moment," Ms. Morrell said. "But what if you choose to not open your mouth, to not let the water in?"
"You do anyway," Stiles said, shaking his head. "It's a reflex."
Ms. Morrell nodded in that understanding way that Stiles figured they must teach in guidance counselor school. "But if you hold off until that reflex kicks in, you have more time, right?"
"Not much time," Stiles said.
"But more time to fight your way to the surface," she said.
Stiles sighed, seeing where this was going. "I guess."
"More time to be rescued," she added.
"More time to be in agonizing pain," Stiles said. "Or did you forget the part where it feels like your head's exploding?"
"If it's about survival isn't a little agony worth it?" she asked.
"What if it gets worse?" Stiles asked. "What if it's agony now and just hell later on?"
Ms. Morrell leaned back in her chair . "Then think about something Winston Churchill once said. If you're going through hell, keep going."
[It was decided this scene was too pretty to post without gifs. Taken from Teen Wolf 2x11 "Battlefield". NFI, NFB but OOC is fine]
Stiles didn't have to go seeing as he wasn't a student there anymore but he figured his father would be more at ease if he went. He had to be here for the lacrosse championship game anyway. He just wanted to get it over and done with before Jack showed up in town tomorrow.
For all that Stiles mothered everyone and insisted they share their feelings, he was terrible when it came to expressing his own. He didn't like being exposed and was worried he'd scare people off with his emotions so he typically hid them under a careful layer of sarcasm and non-sequiturs. So sitting here in Ms. Morrell's office where she expected him to share his feelings was nothing short of torture.
Stiles did appreciate how Ms. Morrell wasn't pushing the issue. She had let Stiles ramble on about this and that while he re-stringed his lacrosse stick, letting Stiles get on the subject of Matt on his own time.
"How do you like your new school?" Ms. Morrell asked. "It's in Maryland, right?"
Stiles nodded. "I like it well enough."
"You seem to come home an awful lot for someone who likes it well enough," Ms. Morrell noted. Of course she'd know about Stiles' recent Beacon Hills detention. "You making friends there?"
"I think so," he said. "I mean, I hang out with people. Mostly adults."
"Do you find that strange?"
Stiles shrugged. "It's just who I ended up hanging out with."
"Tell me about them," Ms. Morrell said. "If you don't mind."
"Um, there's Mike? He works at a bar. He's nice, treats me like a kid brother or something. Kitty also works at a bar. She's pretty easy to talk to, gives good advice. Laurie's way too invested in my love life," Stiles said. "Jack's great. I haven't known him for long, but I feel like I can say anything to him and he won't judge too much. He's coming to watch the game tomorrow. And Derek...Derek's an ass, but he says he's doing it to keep me safe..."
Oh god now that he was saying it out loud he noticed a pattern going on.
And of course Ms. Morrell caught it. "Seems like you want protection. To be taken care of."
"I can take care of myself," Stiles said immediately. "I don't need help."
"Everybody needs help, Stiles," Ms. Morrell said. "I know it must seem like you have to take care of everything, especially after your mother's death--"
"We're not talking about that," Stiles said, looking up at Ms. Morrell. "We're here to talk about Matt."
"Did you have something to say about Matt?" Ms. Morrell asked. "You haven't really seemed interested in the subject since you sat down."
"Official cause of death was drowning. Odd for someone afraid of water. You know when you're drowning you don't actually inhale until right before you black out? It's called voluntary apnea," Stiles said. "It's like no matter how much you're freaking out that the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won't open your mouth until it feels like your head's exploding."
He really needed to stop going on Wikipedia on nights where he took too much Adderall.
"Then when you finally do let it in that's when it stops hurting," he continued as he tightened the strings of his lacrosse cradle. "It's not scary anymore. It's actually kind of peaceful."
"Are you saying you hope Matt felt peace in his last moments?" Ms. Morrell asked.
Stiles looked up at her. "I don't feel sorry for him."
He didn't. He didn't care if that made him a horrible person. Scott had caught Stiles up on why Matt did what he did and Stiles didn't feel any pity for him at all. Everyone had trauma to deal with, that didn't mean you had a free pass to kill people. Sure, sometimes he couldn't feel bad when people got what was coming to them (Peter had been a complete psycho but Stiles could see why he killed Kate Argent), but Matt had killed people for something that had been an accident.
Ms. Morrell didn't seem pleased with Stiles' answer. "Can you feel sorry for the nine-year-old Matt who drowned?"
"Just because a bunch of dumbasses dragged him into a pool when he couldn't swim doesn't really give him the right to kill them off one by one. And, by the way, my dad told me they found a bunch of pictures of Allison on Matt's computer. Not just of her though, he photoshopped himself into these pictures," Stiles told her. "Stuff like them holding hands and kissing. Like he had build this whole fake relationship."
Which was a whole level of sick and weird that even Stiles couldn't understand. "So, yeah, maybe drowning when he was nine was what set him off the rails but the dude was definitely riding the crazy train."
"One positive thing came out of this though, right?" Ms. Morrell asked.
Stiles nodded, knowing what she was referring to. His father had been reinstated as sheriff because of what happened at the station. "Yeah. But I feel like there's something wrong between us. There's tension when we talk. Same thing with Scott."
The Scott thing was what bothered him the most. He knew why he and his dad had tension, but the Scott thing wasn't entirely clear. He was sure Scott was hiding something from him and that hurt. Stiles was supposed to be the person he could tell anything to. Okay, he got that they hadn't been as close after Stiles had left for Fandom, but hadn't Stiles practically worn out Portalocity coming home every time Scott had asked?
He also knew there was some tension regarding Derek since Stiles had forged some weird friends-but-not-really thing there, but he didn't think it mattered since it wasn't actually the same Derek. He might've been wrong.
"Have you talked to him since that night?" Ms. Morrell asked.
"No, not really. I mean he's got his own problems to deal with though. I don't think he's talked to Allison either, but that might be more her choice. Her mom dying hit her pretty hard." That was yet another death that Stiles didn't feel sympathetic for. He felt bad that Allison was in pain, yeah, but her mother had tried to kill Scott.
"I guess it brought her and her dad closer together though," Stiles said. "And Jackson...Jackson hasn't really been himself lately. Actually the funny thing is, as of right now, Lydia's the only one of us that seems the most normal."
And it was so weird that a group that included both Jackson and himself counted as an "us". Stiles liked it better when they didn't hang around the same groups.
"What about you, Stiles?" Ms. Morrell asked. "Nervous about the championship game tomorrow night?"
Stiles had been using his teeth to tighten the strings on his lacrosse stick when the question filtered in. "Why would you ask me that?"
He spit out the rope so he could speak clearly. "No, I never actually play. But, hey, since one of my teammates is dead and another one's missing who knows?"
"You mean Isaac," she said. "One of the three runaways. You haven't heard from any of them have you?"
"Why aren't you taking any notes on this?" Ah, distraction.
"I do my notes after the session."
Stiles lifted an eyebrow. "Your memory's that good?"
Ms. Morrell smiled. "How about we get back to you, Stiles?"
"I'm fine," he said with a shrug. "You know, aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible's about to happen."
"It's called hypervigilance," she supplied. "The persistent feeling of being under threat."
"Maybe it's not just a feeling though," Stiles said. He knew it wasn't just a feeling. "It's--it's like a panic attack. Like I can't even breathe."
"Like you're drowning."
Stiles nodded. "Yeah."
"So you're drowning, and you're trying to keep your mouth closed until that very last moment," Ms. Morrell said. "But what if you choose to not open your mouth, to not let the water in?"
"You do anyway," Stiles said, shaking his head. "It's a reflex."
Ms. Morrell nodded in that understanding way that Stiles figured they must teach in guidance counselor school. "But if you hold off until that reflex kicks in, you have more time, right?"
"Not much time," Stiles said.
"But more time to fight your way to the surface," she said.
Stiles sighed, seeing where this was going. "I guess."
"More time to be rescued," she added.
"More time to be in agonizing pain," Stiles said. "Or did you forget the part where it feels like your head's exploding?"
"If it's about survival isn't a little agony worth it?" she asked.
"What if it gets worse?" Stiles asked. "What if it's agony now and just hell later on?"
Ms. Morrell leaned back in her chair . "Then think about something Winston Churchill once said. If you're going through hell, keep going."
[It was decided this scene was too pretty to post without gifs. Taken from Teen Wolf 2x11 "Battlefield". NFI, NFB but OOC is fine]
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