[Logan watches him go and come back, eying him just as warily for a few beats like he's not sure what to expect here. If the kid's bringing more trouble to his doormat, he doesn't want it. But he also doesn't want any more charity, because it makes him feel itchy under the collar - like this kid's a good kid and now he's fucking sucked into another person's sphere of influence here. He almost wishes Stiles hadn't yet found a cigar, because - damn, he wants to reach out for them. But he doesn't. He stays lounging back on the sofa, eyes intent.]

Not if you're going to get on my case about it. Or act like a doctor, a nurse or anybody else who thinks they know best.