Sometimes Stiles thinks about overdosing on his Adderall.

He thinks about lying in bed while his dad's at the station and just letting the overwhelming need to end it all take him under, to let a wave of depression sink him to the bottom of the sea.

But then he thinks about his dad coming home and finding his only remaining family dead in their bed and stops thinking altogether.

Except his A.D.D won't give him a break and the thoughts never really pause at all.

So he carries on. Smiling a smile he doesn't feel and laughing a laugh he can't hear and no one ever notices.

That's okay with him, though, because people noticing means people pretending to care and that just won't do.


Sometimes Stiles thinks about his mom.

He thinks about the lingering smell of her perfume. About her gentle, ghost-like touch that always left him feeling warm.

But then he thinks about the sickness that plagued her and left him reeling with loss and stops thinking altogether.

Except his A.D.D won't give him a break and the thoughts never really pause at all.

So he shoulders on. Telling a joke he doesn't feel and living a life he can't hear and no one ever notices.

That's okay with him, though, because people noticing means people pretending to sympathize and that just won't do.


Sometimes Stiles thinks about disappearing.

He thinks about getting into the jeep that belonged to his mother so long ago and never looking back. About leaving this oppressing life behind and starting a new one.

But then he thinks about how disappointed his mom would be and how overwhelmingly distraught his father would feel and stops thinking altogether.

Except his A.D.D won't give him a break and the thoughts never really pause at all.

So he trudges on. Dancing his dance that he can't feel and singing his song that he can't hear and no one ever notices.

That's okay with him, though, because people noticing means people pretending to worry and that just won't do.