[ there's a brief, brief second where stiles thinks to himself, what, like wolverine? - but the thought fades as quickly as it arrives, staying completely fucking disconnected to the guy in front of him. stiles runs his hand over the back of his neck, throwing a second cigar logan's way. it lands on the cushion he's sitting on, rolling down and resting against his leg. ]

Okay.

[ next cigar. stiles chews his bottom lip, really mulling this over. he's not going to push logan to talk about shit he doesn't want to talk about, even though he thinks getting on his case about this experimental implant might be the best way for him to figure out how to help him - so he jumps to the next best thing. gathering information so he can try and find short term relief for the guy. ]

How badly does it hurt? The - the coughing, like the fit you had here - how often does that kind of thing happen?