[He listens, to his credit. The whole time refutations are roiling in the back of his mind, violent arguments. He wants to pick a fight with somebody, he realizes; he wants to argue. But not with Stiles. Stiles isn't the problem here, or even a substitute for the problem.]

I guess that's one thing I still haven't learned. [A smile that's a little more like a smirk, a little meaner and more self-defensive than strictly necessary.] Not having control. Just dealing with that.

[That and not just dwelling on his own misery. He got that lesson mostly down, but there are days - well. This is starting to look like one of them.]

[He blows his bangs out of his face and looks up at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling.]

Maybe I should just go back and start over.