Squiggle: Not anymore than in the show. I tried to keep things the same as the show. Only difference is the second practice is on Thursday not Friday, but that you don't have to worry about until chapter 6. This is a Sterek-Destiel fic with something weird with Sam putting up Luc and Crowley for whatever reason on the side, which isn't really clear. Sam may even be trying to date women, which obviously doesn't work out, Luc and Crowley both being to blame, collectively. There may be mention of MichAdam, which may or may not show up because DEAN. I don't like putting two people together just to break up, unless they're canon.
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Stiles had turned on his side even though he thought Scott was being unreasonable. Sure, his head was swimming with the sudden influx of whiskey in his system, more by the minute, but he didn't think he'd say he was quite drunk yet. The thing making his head swim was probably more him being tired, laying down in the silky dirt of the firepit area, being able to really relax for the first time in weeks, in the dark rustling woods they'd grown up in. He wouldn't lie, he might indeed fall asleep, but he had never been much of a drunk vomiter, at least not without outside influence, and he had barely eaten all day. Still, he stayed as Scott had asked, even if just to have Scott not freak out if he came back to find him passed out. He laid on his side staring out into the dark night of the state forest, letting his eyes slowly adjust so he could see the leftover leaves and debris from the past years quiver and dance in the wind, and catch the odd glimpse of an animal moving through or checking in on what was going on with him and the fire.
A cry rang out, sharp but stifled, as if Scott had fallen suddenly, and cried out. He knew it wasn't his imagination as the crows and owl watching over him quickly departed their perches. He sat up, glancing around for movement. "Scott? You okay, bud?" He called, voice scratchy with the sleep that had soaked into it. A scream this time echoed through the woods, panicked, shrill with fear, making him jump to his feet. He had to pause as his vision blurred and his brain hurt from suddenly getting up.
His head was swimming. He couldn't tell if he was drunk. But he knew he'd just heard Scott call out for help, a muted haggard cry. "...Help!..." He heard from the depths of the woods. He got up and looked at the woods surrounding him, trying to discern what way Scott had gone. He still heard things, but in the dead void of the woods, he couldn't tell where it was coming from, what were the noises and what were their echoes. He had to be drunk. This should have been no problem for him if he was anywhere near sober. He chose the general direction he thought the noise was coming from but it had since gone quiet, or was too far to hear, so he had no way of knowing if he was right.
"Scott!? SCOTT!" He tried but kept receiving no reply. Regardless he kept jogging and yelling, constantly looking through the trees for any speck of movement to latch onto and chase down. He thought he saw something in the distance. He'd swore he saw movement- human-like movement- beyond the trees. He surged forward without thinking, sprinting through the root laced woods, cautionless. Inevitably he tripped. He'd almost tripped a few times, and he hadn't thought to be more careful, too worried about getting to Scott as soon as possible. This time he ate dirt for his carelessness, his luck not about to give him anymore chances to learn apparently. But of course, it had to be at the top of a decently steep hill, and he went where gravity pulled him. He landed hard, trees and rocks and roots beating him as he rolled down the hill. He built up so much speed he started to bounce a bit, and he worried how he was going to gain back control, but just then his head slammed against a thick trunk, jarring him from the straight log shape his body had taken on of its own drunken accord. The forced realignment helped slow him slightly, but he continued rolling until his legs slammed into another tree, scratching the skin under his jeans as they pulled away from the tree. He groaned as he rolled gingerly down the rest of the hill. He was hurting bad but he could still see the big charred blob that he knew could only be the Hale house, out in the woods like this. Shit, really?! Of all the places he could end up… What was this, a horror movie? He didn't even care. He didn't have the strength to move anyway and he now felt blood going down the back of his neck. It wasn't like he'd bleed to death, but it wasn't all that light flowed either, it'd certainly be ruining his white graphic tee in no time. He closed his eyes and groaned, almost communing with nature as if calling his little friends of the forest to help him. But instead he heard footsteps rustling in the leaves, and someone quietly growl in frustration. As if he was pleased to be here either.
"What the hell…" The person sighed. Stiles turned his head gently and looked up at the figure. Stiles' vision was still shit, so the only thing he could make sense of, especially at such a distance, were, oddly, the guy's eyes. They were a piercing steel gray-blue. "Hey, get outta here. You hear me? This is private property!" The guy called as he waltzed over. Who the fuck was this guy? The only dude left of the Hale family was in fucking New York. Maybe he was a lawyer or groundskeeper or a new deputy he wasn't familiar with, but any of those didn't give him the right to be a dick to someone who clearly just fucking ate it right in front of him. Stiles only grumbled at his utter rudeness.
"My friend… was-was in trouble. I heard him yell… went looking... I fell down the hill." Is what he was trying to say, but he didn't know how much of that actually got out of his mouth or was anywhere near coherent. But whoever this guy was seemed to at least understand part of it, because he looked up the hill, and back down at Stiles' now limp body. He seemed to glare at something he saw up the hill but Stiles didn't particularly have the strength to care. He didn't have the strength to do much else but pass out. So he did.