hyperactive | ic contact || deerington.

[ It'd be so, so, so easy to call Logan out on being a hypocrite, and fuck, oh my god, the tasty, savory, delectable if-I-can-get-prescribed-something-than-why-can't-you?-flavored morsel is sitting right on the tip of his tongue, but... well, Stiles isn't really in the mood to be a dick anymore. ]

I'll find someone. I need adderall, too. I was already planning on combing through town for a pharmacy when we got back.

[ He shrugs. He's not saying it so directly, but Stiles is trying to subtly make it clear that he's got this handled and he'll take care of it himself - the last thing he wants is for Logan to feel like he has to babysit him if he genuinely feels like Stiles is a burden. Nothing's quite as big of a burden as a sick dependent, so. That's not really what Stiles wants to be. ]

Sorry about your... father figure.

[ Stiles winces a little as he says it, just because awkward, clumsy apologies were the one thing he wanted to avoid when he dropped this on Logan, but here he is, giving one back. He's sorry about that, too. ]

[The last thing Logan really wants is another tether, true. Laura's a handful and Stiles, without the medical aspect, is one too. But he's not going to just walk away from this kid, especially not now that he knows he needs more help than most people might be able to give him. Feels like another dose of penance in the same breath, however. Another long haul that's bound to end poorly, with Logan somehow dragging through.

He makes a curt nod with reference to Charles, looking away as he rubs at his beard. Hasn't been a lot of time to reflect on losing Charles, and he doesn't want to start digging that well either.]

Sorry about your mom.

[ Ah, he doesn't wanna do this. He's opened up enough. There's only so much Stiles can throw on someone before he starts feeling like some itchy, hivey mess, and they definitely reached that point the second Logan threw a sorry his way. Stiles just scoffs and waves the sympathy away, not really wanting to dwell. ]

Sorry about your mom. All those jokes people make about her.

[ Must've been hard growing up the son of the woman all those your mom jokes are really about. ]

Edited 2020-02-16 04:43 (UTC)

[Logan just stares - silent and his usual moody self, even without the pain and aches.]

I should probably head out.

[ Right, okay, Stiles deserved that. A part of him wants to ask Logan to hang out for a little while longer, but another part of him is pretty drained by what they've talked about already, and sending him out now that there's an opportunity feels infinitely better than sending him out later with a cheery sure, okay, let me know if you find any cures for dementia out there, catch ya on the flip side.

So - Stiles stands, makes like a good host. He offers a hand to Logan in case he, like, needs it to get up. ]

I'll see you around? Don't be a stranger, okay? And - uh - tell me if that kid feels better.

[Logan looks at Stiles' hand, then looks up at Stiles' face and - well, the point of no thanks gets across non verbally. If not, Logan'll slap it away before getting up on his own, thank you very much. He'll grab his bag, checking that everything is stored away, and then cracks his neck to the side with... a particularly audible little crunch.]

I'll keep you posted. Thanks, kid.

[And so he'll - depart, if there's not anything else to say.]

ic contact || deerington.

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