Summer just huffs a chuckle, smile turning wry, at the outburst of laughter. It’s a very familiar kind of full-throated outburst, and she glances over her shoulder toward the sound. Scooping the thoroughly-violated feeling Helios into her arms, she looks up at Dr Deaton. “Does that mean there’s something you should put a stop to?” she teases.
He just shrugs slightly, with a knowing look, and opens the door for her. She tells him, “Thank you,” then calls, “Stiles? I think I’m done here. Helios wants to go home.”
There’s the faintest quirk of an eyebrow from Deaton as he refocuses his attention on Summer. He considers her question for a few long moments before commenting quietly, “No, I don’t generally find it necessary to put a stop to happiness. It can be rare enough. Take care, you two. I hope I don’t see you back here until Helios’ next check-up.” He even reaches to hold the door open for the departing cat and his mistress.
Stiles hasn’t answered Summer’s call, the reason for which might be evident the moment they get back into the waiting room. It’s empty but for he and Scott, and Stiles has taken the opportunity to regale his best friend with some kind of story which has more or less at this point degraded into hysterical laughter. They’re leaning on each other, hands on opposite shoulders, and Stiles keeps gesturing with his free hand in a circular motion as he laughs, trying to continue the story but unable to get his breathing in the appropriate gear. “And then he—he—hhh—”
Scott looks up first, but their synergy causes Stiles to look up a moment later. There’s a split second of silence as they blink at Summer like they’ve been caught out at something.
Then it all dissolves again, straight into helpless guffaws. Stiles starts laughing so hard he’s melting to the side and Scott shifts his grip to hold Stiles up by the arm without even thinking.
Summer just stands there, in the rowan gap, arms wrapped around Helios, looking slightly bemused. She waits patiently for the laughter to subside again, at least to the point where she can be heard. Then, “I can call a cab,” she says mildly.
It’s almost certainly one of those injokes that would lose greatly in the retelling. But that’s fine; she just wants to get Helios back home where he can run off and sulk properly at the way he’s been mistreated (his concept, not hers). She buries her nose in his fur and watches the two boys over his ears, patiently waiting.