Stiles gives Derek a quick look over his shoulder, as if double checking that decision before walking out the crack between the large double doors. No point in leaving the whole place open - the guy going after stray balls would have had a hell of a time getting them back again.

There's another exit, out of the base and back into the 'civilian' sectors of the city off towards their left, and he heads towards that. The stretch of tarmac's pretty empty at this time, either people are off on the night shift, or they're still at the makeshift court. "Define real," he starts. "If you mean something you can see, hear, or touch, then definitely not. But think of it this way, the Computer couldn't have downloaded us from nowhere, and things are too well connected to be a dream, you can always link point A to B to C." It had made sense, to think of everything that came through as stuff that had actually happened, somewhen and somewhere. There wasn't any of that disjointed scene changes or nonsensical behavior you get in dreams, not when he could make sense of it. And he dismisses the probability of a shared hallucination right off, there's too much for that.

"Days," Stiles has to stop to give Derek a disbelieving look. "Days." Because that speaks of a stubbornness, while unsurprising, that's willing to subject someone to self-torture. Why would anyone even want to do that? They don't even have sections in the video to skip back to - if you asked a question, they made you watch the whole thing from the top. Anyone who does that probably does need all the help they can get.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he takes a moment to weight his options. He's also aware that standing around in the middle of an airfield's probably attracting unnecessary attention, but he doesn't care at the moment.

"Okay. Let's see what we can find out." It wouldn't be the first time he just rolled with things.