Chapter Seven: BFFS?
A pleasant surprise came to Stiles about four days after his capture.
He found out that he could get Mark to talk- in actual sentences too! And it wasn't talk about the kidnapping or werewolves. It was just stuff like Game of Thrones, Sherlock, Star Trek and other fandoms, as well as politics and basic gaming.
He actually found he liked Mark…besides the whole kidnapping thing. He assumed Mark liked him too, considering he was starting to spend more and more time down in the basement- talking to Stiles and helping him get his mind of the predicament. Stiles was a naturally talkative person- and without his Adderall even more so, it was good to have someone to speak to- even about nonsense like Martin Freeman's fashion sense.
Stiles found that Mark was kind of like his anchor in this whole mess- helping him stay weighted and not go crazy, he was really thankful for that and he told Mark so.
Mark actually seemed generally delighted at that- and Stiles though he was in for a fighting chance at a friendship-that-will-lead-to-eventual-escape.
At midday, Mark, who was wearing a 'Jurassic Park' T-shirt, brought Stiles lunch- mashed potatoes and cold turkey slices. Stiles devoured it hungrily, as he always did when food was brought to him.
"Thanks Mark." He said, leaning back in his chair when he was finished. If he didn't have his hands restrained- they'd be patting his belly.
"No problem Stiles. It's not the best meal ever, I know." Mark responded, going over to sit cross-legged next to Stiles' chair.
"Yeah, but I was HUNGRY, so it was AWESOME." Stiles responded, feeling a bit light headed- which was odd. Mark had told him that he'd gotten over any concussion he had developed from that time in the parking lot- so it couldn't be because of that.
Maybe he was getting sick from being kept in a mouldy basement for days?
Stiles surroundings were becoming blurry and bright- kind of like in a dream. It was a sudden change- almost instantaneous. Strange…
"You okay man?" Mark asked, taking the empty food bowl out of Stiles' lap. Obviously noticing the way Stiles was blinking rapidly.
"Yeah- just, I feel a bit weird…" Stiles screwed his eyes shut against the feeling of floaty- ness that was enveloping him. What the hell was going on? Was his body having a reaction to sitting down so long? Oh well- It didn't matter- life was good. Things were awesome. Wait. What? Where did that come from?
"I'm right with you Stiles." Mark was saying from somewhere far, far away- possibly in another universe.
Stiles smiled giddily, "Yeah, 'cause you're my friend! Right Markey?"
"Yeah Stiles- I'm your friend." Mark was smiling now- though Stiles didn't notice. He wasn't really noticing anything due to the feeling of sudden…calm...enveloping his entire being.
"And you can tell your friends anything yeah?" Mark went on to say, placing his hand on Stiles' uninjured wrist.
"Yeah…" Stiles sighed dreamily. Mark was so cool. He could tell Mark anything. Mark wouldn't judge him- he was Stiles' friend.
"Like about… Derek Hale?" Mark asked in that calm, soothing British Morgan Freeman voice that Stiles had always loved.
"I-I don't think he'd like me talkin' 'bout him. Ya know?" Stiles responded dreamily. It was getting harder and harder to keep his head up and his eyes open.
"Sure he would. You trust me. We're friends- you can tell me." Mark pressed.
"I don't know…" Stiles was getting confused- why was Mark asking about Derek all of a sudden- they'd never talked about anything serious before, why now? And why was he feeling so strange?
"Come on Stiles- we're friends right?" What was going on?
"Yeah…but…" Something was not right. He needed to think.
"You can tell me anything right?" He couldn't think- why couldn't he think?
"Yeah…but…" Why couldn't he concentrate?
"So you can tell me about Derek yeah?" Stiles was so confused.
"Yeah-I. No. No he wouldn't like it. Something's wrong Mark." He needed to warn Mark- something was wrong- he knew it, but his stupid brain wasn't working enough to let him figure it out.
"Nothing's wrong Stiles. Just relax. Tell me about Derek." What was with this Derek thing? Why was he being so persistent- couldn't he see Stiles wasn't feeling well? Unless…
"You-you drugged me!" Stiles' voice was starting to slur.
Mark sighed and stood up.
"I think we're done here Stiles." He said, heading for staircase.
"I thought you were nice!" Stiles slurred, too out-of it to feel as much betrayal as he was sure he would have.
Mark left him all alone again, down in the basement.
"I thought you'd help me." He whispered- finally succumbing to the drug- letting it take him into the blissful darkness of a drugged sleep.
