(please read part i first :)
Stiles is acting strange after waking up from the coma, even when he gets his memories back. Sometimes he's a completely different person: aggressive, distant, and cold. Others, he's back to his old self. Once the pack n...
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Stiles didn't like being back in a hospital.
It'd been almost a week since he'd woken up, and he'd been scared to go to sleep ever since. Scared to close his eyes and not wake up again. The whole sleep avoidance thing was starting to take a toll on him, though, he could tell. His muscles were heavy and achy, and his head constantly felt fuzzy and light.
"Sleep deprivation," he remembered his dad saying as he listed off different triggers for partial seizures, since Stiles had been having trouble reading it himself. His dad had given him a bombastic side-eye, knowing full well Stiles was hardly getting any sleep.
But while he had only had one other seizure since the fiasco at the sheriff's station, he was back in the hospital for more tests and rehab. He had just gotten out of an EEG and was feeling a little lightheaded from it, but it was nothing a little water wouldn't fix. Because there was no way he was taking a nap here in a hospital, even if it wasn't the same one he'd been comatose in.
"Miec...Uh...Mr. Stilinski?" an older nurse called from across the neurology waiting room, face turning into a live action question mark as she read his first name. Stiles leapt to his feet without pausing to take a breath, eager to escape the chaos of all the other kids in there. They, like him, were in here for various issues with their brains, and they weren't as great at keeping quiet or keeping their hands to themselves as Stiles was.
The sheriff followed a moment later, groaning with all his annoying old man noises. Stiles appreciated that he'd taken time off of work to drive him here to the downtown Beacon County Children's Hospital, both because he couldn't legally drive anymore and because he didn't want to face the hospital alone.
"Right down this hall to the room on the left," the nurse said, smiling and gesturing to the door. Stiles ducked in, feeling like he was a naughty kid at the principal's office.
The room looked like any old doctor's office: there was a doctor's desk in one corner, with an examination table in the other. The walls were a drab brown color, but they were covered in various underwater-themed stickers and characters from Finding Nemo.
His dad made for one of the chairs that were pushed off to the side, and the nurse gestured for Stiles to sit on the table. Though he resented it, he forced himself to hop up onto the loud, crinkly paper, letting his legs dangle freely over the side.
The nurse double-checked some things on her tablet, making sure the results from the EEG were coming through, and told them that the doctor would be there in a minute before marching out at a brisk pace for such an old lady.
Stiles and the sheriff sat in awkward silence for a few moments, Stiles staring stone-faced at the opposite wall and the sheriff fidgeting with his coat sleeves. He'd been so anxious lately, Stiles so stoic, that it almost seemed like they had switched brains. Or that Stiles' ADHD had been sucked out and implanted into his father instead.
