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He’s had it as long as he could remember. His dad tells him it started when he was five and it just stayed with him through the years. Sleep Apnea on a scale of one to ten is near a two or three on the horrible disorder scale. At most it leaves him really tired which his Adderall fixes usually. He knows he had to wear a heart monitor as a kid because his breathing would stop for too long and it could be damaging for a child at that age.
There were many sleepless nights for his parents whenever the monitor would go off, but a quick tap or shake and he was awake and fine.
And then there was after his mom died and he started having panic attacks. After each one, whenever he would go to sleep, it would happen and for a while there, he would have to sleep with his dad because his father was afraid he would just stop breathing and never start back up again.
Still, he should have realized how much it would freak out a werewolf. Normally, he doesn’t notice it and that fine. It’s not until Scott points it out that he realizes that the werewolves can hear his breathing stop.
It’s a pack night when they actually find out about his disorder. It had been a long night of training and hanging out and they were all settled down to watch some movies, popcorn in bowls strewn between them.
They were into the second movie when his exhaustion hit him. Stiles had been up for nearly twenty-four hours and he could certainly use the Z’s. So he curled further into the couch, pillowing his head on the arm and wiggled his feet under Scott’s leg.
It seemed like he had just fallen asleep when he was being jerked awake roughly. Stiles swatted at the hands, annoyed at his disturbed slumber. “What?” he asks grouchily.
Isaac was crouched beside his head, blue eyes wide with worry. “You stopped breathing,” Isaac whispers. Stiles looks passed his shoulder to see the other wolves all looking at him worriedly.
“It’s normal…for me anyways,” Stiles tells them.
“How is it, you stopping breathing normal?” Erica asks, frowning.
“Sleep Apnea,” Lydia chimes in with a huff. “His breathing pauses for small intervals and then starts back up naturally. He is completely safe.”
“I don’t like it,” Isaac says.
“Nothing I can do about it,” Stiles mutters with a shrug of one shoulder.
Whining, Isaac forces Stiles arm up and curls under it and up to Stiles. “You’re such a puppy,” Stiles mutters, but lets Isaac stay. “If it happens again, just nudge me and I’ll wake up,” Stiles tells him and Isaac nods.
Stiles can see Derek just over Isaac’s shoulder and he nods at the werewolf to show that he’s fine. The Alpha nods back and slowly, the pack settle back down and Stiles goes to back to sleep. He wakes up the next morning on the floor in a tangle of limbs as the pack surround him.
End.