HYPER ACTIVE LITTLE BASTARD
So it's been said from Jeff and others that Stiles does struggle with ADHD. However I write Stiles without ADHD, but abuses the medication because that is my zone. Please, if you have an addiction, remember that you can take back your life and get help. Don't ever give up.
This hyperactive little bastard that keeps ruining my life.’
What he's doing is illegal but he doesn’t care, and hell, if his dad knew he ever thought that he would be in for an ass whooping. For some reason the D.A.R.E talks his dad gave him and all the calls and stories about junkies ruining their lives, killing their friends in accidents, and going to jail for the rest of their lives did not put the fear of God into Stiles. Instead he researched and was curious about what the drugs did to the human mind. It started out with wanting to get things done faster and simply having more energy, but it ended with something far more than he could handle.
He walks into the boys bathroom on the second floor and scopes it out checking to make sure no one is there. He twirls around at the sound of the door opening and hallelujah it's the guy he's looking for. They say 'hey' and then discuss the price because the dude has EXTRA than what he said he'd bring and now he's glad he brought extra cash. He hands the money over wanting to get this done with as soon as possible because having werewolf friends has side effects like extreme paranoia. That combined with his dad being Sheriff.
He quickly eye counts the orange pills then pockets them, says 'thanks' and leaves.
In his gut he knows he’s wrong but he doesn’t know what else to do.
“Stiles.”
He turns to the familiar voice as he walks into the cafeteria. Scott bum rushes him with a tray in hand.
“Listen, so I’m thinking that maybe once we kill Matt… it might, might, be a good idea to try and get Jackson in our pack.”
Of course he would.
Stiles takes a deep breath, “Why on earth would you even begin to think that is a good idea? Jackson isn’t even the same species as you and now that Peter is alpha, who knows what that bastard is going to do. Once we kill Matt his ties might be with Lydia and might be a spy for her or Peter or something absurd to make our plans go alllll sorts of fucked up!”
Scott shrugs, “I dunno, my wolf seems to think it’s a good idea.”
Stiles deadpans and looks over at Scott with speculative eyes. Scott has become more comfortable with his condition since joining Derek’s pack but now that Peter is prowling the Hills again he seems more tense, his shoulders stiff and always glancing around. Sniffing.
“Well my human thinks it’s a very bad idea, an idea that could quite possibly destroy us all.”
Scott leans over into him and sniffs.
“You smell like medicine… it’s really strong.”
He doesn’t have time to keep calm, he watches Scotts eyes get bigger as his heart rate increases with his fear.
“I, I just, “ He stutters and looks down. “I had a bad morning.”
Scott nods but doesn’t say anything just goes back to eating his lunch. Feeling guilty, Stiles pushes his food around with his fork. He tries to choke down the oversteamed carrots like nothing is wrong but there is. The nagging in the back of his head that screams out 'your friend thinks you have adhd!', because of the one time Scott caught him taking his pills. But between his friend, the truth, and his Adderall there is no competition. It's nothing serious anyway, it makes him feel so good and it makes him happy. For god sakes, he can write a 12 page paper, research kanima in latin and make dinner for his dad on 40mg. On that note, he smiles over at Scott and tries to hold in his excitement over the 30 pills he just scored.
He rushes home and puts his stash away in his top dresser drawer under some of his clothes. When his mom died things were almost unbearable, going to the store you wondered how people could keep going when your life seemed to end. But the Monday his mom died turned to Tuesday and then Wednesday and soon it was the holidays and then the summer and life keeps going. There is no choice and no easy way out because if suicide was easy then he probably wouldn't... He puts his head into his hands and feels drained. He wonders if he should take some now or wait. He swallows the lump in his throat and blinks away the tears. Sometimes he wishes he never tried the damn things but over time everyone just expected him to be so upbeat, he even has his own dad convinced.
He sniffs and shakes his head then gets up and pops one, he needs to get out of this funk. There's no point on thinking he's an addict because he's not if he recognizes the symptoms, right? He could totally stop if he wanted to but he's better with them so there is. No. Point. And what's he going to do throw them away? That would be a waste, and what happens when there is a big exam or essay? No. Stop. He can think of anything, be anything, live without his mom. So, why give that up?
He plops himself down in front of his computer and quickly opens up a video game before he gets stuck doing something he doesn't like. He laughs and thinks about how he sat at his desk with watercolors and painted for hours, literally, hours. Call of duty. He zones in.
He isn’t an...
It’s recreational.
If he tried he could...
And if he was a better son he would.
He pulls up to Derek’s house, he got a message saying it was urgent he stop by. He couldn’t help the goosebumps or his heart racing or the urge to just turn around. Isaac is leaning against one of the pillars and Derek is walking out of the house followed by Erica. It’s funny how Derek isn’t an Alpha anymore but they continue to treat him as one but Stiles figures Peter could appear anytime and take control which is his worst fear. Boyd and Scott are missing. For the first time Stiles feels like he is entering a pack den, so he doesn’t get out…
Derek walks over and knocks on his window startling him.
“Stiles, get out we need to talk. Right now.”
It’s the familiar tone Derek uses, the same one his father uses when he tries to interrogate him before going to a party or when he asks where he’s been, that sets him on edge.
“Uh, I actually have a lot of work I gotta do.” Cold chills set in, his palms are sweaty and he really wants to just go home and try to sleep because his brain feels numb.
Derek growls and his eyes flash blue and tries to open the door. “Open the door, Stiles! I swear I'll break your window and yank you out!”
Stiles shakes his head, "Yeah, that's not going to happen."
He throws his jeep in reverse and peels out of the yard. He looks in the rearview mirror and feels like a shitty ass friend as he watches Isaac and Erica start walking up to Derek who looks livid. Great. His instinct told him to leave and Derek always told him to trust his instinct. He’s halfway to his house when his phone rings, it’s Derek and as much as he doesn’t want to answer he knows he owes the guy an explanation. Hmm… what's a good explanation? Dad texted him… he has homework…no…HE LEFT THE OVEN ON! That's it, he smirks and answers it on the third ring.
“Eyyy Derek, hah funny… I just saw you what’sup Sourwolf?”
Dereks intimidating chest rumble is heard through the phone.
“You better turn around and get your ass back here Stiles. We have to talk. Right. Now.”
Stiles hands are getting clammy. “No, I don’t listen to you, you know why? Cause I’m not a wolf. And! And, I left the oven on. I don't want my house to…” Burn down. Shit, so that wasn't a good one. Why can't he just think before he talks because now he feels like a D-bag.
“Stiles, you listening? You are pack and you need to trust me when I say you are making a big mistake.” Derek hangs up before he can ask what he meant.
He’s sorry he is a wimp and a horrible friend and son. He bites his lip and just wants to go home and go to bed because he knows he shouldn’t have left his bed this morning.
His dad isn’t home, he doesn’t know where his dad could be. He closes his eyes and just prays this is a temporary suspension, maybe he should go down to the police station and beg for community service so his dad can get his job back. It would be the right thing to do.
He opens his bedroom door and finds Scott and Boyd sitting on his bed, scratch that, practically sitting on each other on his bed. What the hell? Did they get bigger or did someone shrink his mattress or are they deliberately doing this?
“Just got a text from Derek, so you didn’t talk to him?” Scott’s eyes narrow.
“Look… I’m tired man. I don’t want to deal with this right-“
“But you can deal with being a junkie?” Boyd’s blatant response leaves him shocked and breathless. Boyd pulls out a bag. His heart starts pounding and he starts feeling nauseous because that is HIS.
“Give it to me, I… I need it. And I'm ADHD so...”
They can hear his lie, see it on their fucking faces. He slams his door shut and storms over to Boyd only to be pushed against the wall by Scott. He pays no mind to his supposed best friend and stares at Boyd who has a look of utter ugliness and fucking fuck all over his face.
"Fuck you, Boyd." Stiles seethes.
“We can smell it all over you like a fucking rotting wound on your skin, Stiles! And this whole ADHD thing really has me peeved, you lied to my face and I believed you! Would someone who has ADHD be carrying their pills in a plastic baggy? I bet I can even say who you got those pills from if I smelled hard enough tomorrow.” Scotts yells at him then slams him into the wall. “You think we're stupid? Are you insane? Don’t you realize how… How dangerous these pills are and how hard it is to get off of them? You're the one who's always telling me about the consequences of my actions! You're the one who does the research and statistics.” Scotts hands change and his nails are digging into the wall and tears are running down Scotts face.
“Scott, please I’m, I’m fine this isn’t what it looks like, okay? Can you guys just calm down?” His voice croaks and he feels completely shattered. For as long as he has known Scott, which is a long time, he has never seen him act this way. "I'm not…" His throat closes up and suddenly he's blinking tears back.
"I'm not an addict, Scott." He whispers and clears his throat. "You have to believe me. These pills are…"
My life! You can't take them away. I need them. NEED. Stiles avoids looking at Boyd to make a point and Scott takes his hand from the wall and pulls Stiles into a hug.
‘It’s you Stiles.’ Stiles flinches.
“And that’s the worst part. You are trying so hard to pretend that you don't care what happens to these things.” Scott takes the bag and the pills rattle. "But your heartbeat can't lie. In fact, your heart beat has increased slightly more so now that I have them instead of Boyd. Is it because you know that I won't be giving them back?"
Stiles tries to slow his breathing and his heart. He hates Scott. "I hate you. You're supposed to be my friend, on my side! I'll just get more, you can't boss me around just because you're some fucking stupid werewolf, Scott!"
‘This hyperactive little bastard,’
Scott pulls him into a another crushing hug and holds tight as Stiles fights him.
“We are going to get you help, I'm not going to let my brother die from an addiction, you hear me? I care for you, you need to trust us. I'm here, dude.”
“ that keeps ruining my life.’
Stiles closes his eyes and suddenly feels exhausted.
He isn’t an addict.
It was recreational.
He will try.
And he will be a better son.