[ Her first instinct is to become defensive: it seems like a double-standard, that things should become tense because she lied after they'd all lied to her for a year about the werewolf crap. Kept her in the dark even after it almost killed her. But that's not productive. ]
She said that she was from our future and that she knew what happened. That we were all a pack, so we should all cooperate.
[ But they are all pack, aren't they? Enough so that she'll question why that's such a big deal. A second's delay, then he finally gets to the catch: ]
So that we would cooperate with Peter. He was on the ship, too. He's the one who made her lie.
[ He's already been over this. Another time, technically another Lydia, but it's still just as true as it was then, and he regrets it just as much. ]
We're better than we were before.
[ He hopes he is. He knows she is, that she'd trust him enough to ask for help, this time, though there's still the sting of why she hadn't to begin with — why it'd been so easy for Peter to get under her skin. They'd already let it happen to her once. ]
I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to ask for the truth. No more secrets, okay? I swear.
[ He almost switches to voice or literally anything other than text, but that means having to look at Derek or Derek looking at him, which — he doesn't know how to respond, honestly, and he doesn't trust himself to school his expression, whether it's from anger or guilt or some mess in between. ]
[ ironically, derek's in the same boat. it's the reason he's sticking to text, because he doesn't think he could look scott in the face right now. this happened on derek's watch. derek's responsible for what's happened. ]
It wasn't a passenger on the ship. There was a group that came aboard. It was one of them.
[ He should've been here. But he doesn't say that, because Derek was here, and he knows enough about Derek to know that he's already tackling that blame himself. Bringing it up will just make it worse. ]
[ There isn't much else to say. Nothing that isn't just blind worry, anyway, and that'd just be going in circles until they get more information from Isaac.
[ the least derek could do would be to listen. nothing scott could say would be something derek hadn't said to himself, and it's what he expects to receive. the gratitude catches him off guard. ]
It's alright. You would do the same for me.
[ that's clear to derek now. it might have taken him a long time to come to that understanding, but he doesn't doubt it. not anymore. ]
[ Allison bade him farewell and made quick work of her shower, considering she was old hat at it by now. She's relieved there's nothing new in her locker, but she doesn't have time to dwell on it — on anything.
Mostly because Scott's not the only one who realized this sounds like a date. It wasn't how she'd meant it, the need to talk about Things trumps any fun they might be having with them hanging out on their own. (And not even, you know, sexy fun, she's resolutely not even thinking about that.) When she gets to her room, she paces back and forth for a few strides, finally remembering to break the mountain ash line so he can get in. She scoops up part of it, dusts it off back into the jar she'd taken when Stiles had left, and then shoves it into her storage space, pausing when a piece of red fabric pokes out.
It's his jersey, and she'd taken to sleeping in it now and then, out of... nostalgia. A need to cling for some kind of normalcy. She missed him, and it doesn't hurt to admit it, even if it feels wrong somehow. She'd ended it, even if she did still love him. And it hadn't been fair that she'd laid that out on him. It was only Lydia's reassurance that he was doing alright afterward that lessened the guilt.
Because the truth of the matter was, she wasn't going to take it back. Not now, maybe not ever. She didn't want to, and she was getting a second chance at life, here. Maybe a relationship wasn't something she'd ever be able to pursue with him again, but — friends. She still wanted to be his friend, and the source of her nerves was the fact she wasn't sure just how awkward it would be.
She's left the door open for him, and when he arrives, she's sitting on her bed, the jersey folded in her lap. She's got her comm out and she's scrolling through the network with a pensive look on her face. Apparently some naked guy had gone berserk right after she'd left with Scott, but it was someone else's turn to wrestle a naked newbie to the brig. She has more important things to worry about. ]
[ It isn't exactly nostalgia that has Scott stopping off on his old floor before circling back to nine; there's nothing about this ship that he's thrilled to revisit, company aside. There aren't any familiar scents, no familiar neighbors. The floor's mostly abandoned, silent. No distractions.
He ends up loitering in his old doorway for a good five minutes with nothing to do but think, and that's — kind of what he'd been trying to avoid, but he needs to, right? He can't just meet up with Allison totally blind. Can't just drag out another I'm okay or it's fine when he knows it isn't, really, even if it's more complicated than not okay.
They'd both moved on. That isn't the problem. The problem is that she was gone, and now that she's here all of the what if's in the world are suddenly a lot less abstract, and he has no idea how to deal. Standing her up for a not-date is probably not the right way to deal, though, so he finally drags himself away from his old room and onto the lift, nervously scratches at the inside of his jeans pocket with a thumb as he waits for the door to open, then heads to her room.
The door's open, and he only hesitates for half a second before letting himself in. He recognizes the red of the jersey in her lap on sight, recognizes it as his own a beat later, and he takes up that line of thought before he can awkwardly stall out. ] Is that... ?
[ She jumps when she hears him speak, closing her eyes to take a deep breath. She wasn't supposed to be that absorbed in her thoughts or the goingons of the network. Allison looks up at him with a smile, sheepish, but not shy. ] Yeah, it, uhm. Showed up in my locker a few jumps ago.
[ Allison stands, and walks over to him, holding it out. ] I thought maybe you might want it back.
[ Was it supposed to be this awkward? All the what ifs and maybes and things that were said that were supposed to have ended when they did? It hadn't been this awkward talking about anything with anyone else. Maybe it was just because it was Scott.
It was like the closet all over again. Except for the part of him that was doing something. ]
[ Thank god for that 'except'. Scott lifts a hand when she offers him the jersey, instinctive, only to hesitate midway to accepting it. ]
You can keep it. I mean, if you want to keep it? [ So awkward. He realizes how weirdly presumptuous the offer sounds as soon as he makes it, lips pressing together in a chagrined expression that matches hers as he gently takes the jersey. He can see the edge of the numbers, the way it's folded up, and he considers it for a second in silence.
Lacrosse seems... really, really unimportant. But there's still a nostalgia to it that's hard to ignore. Other things that are hard to ignore: the elephant in the room. That silence stretches on for a few heavy seconds, then he rallies enough courage to get to the point. ] How much do you remember?
[ Not enough courage to look her in the eye, or sound particularly confident of the question. It's said quietly, gaze still downcast, giving her ample chance to dodge it if she wants to. ]
[ The words tumble out of her mouth before he even finishes the question. She doesn't even realize she's saying it until the last word has left her throat, and she clenches her jaw tight in an effort to keep anything else from slipping out that she doesn't want to. Her fingers grasp at his jersey, knuckles white as she grips it tight. Allison's fear is palpable; he'd probably be able to feel it even without an uncanny sense of smell or the ability to hear her heart rate. She takes a couple of deep breaths in a vain attempt to calm the former, and swallows thick. ]
Everything. Up until the end. I'm sorry.
[ She's afraid he won't remember. She's afraid he will. She's afraid that it's different with Scott, that everything will be from now on because no one else got a love confession with her last breath. It was cruel, a part of her observes from a distance, to say that to him when he was beginning to move on. She's scared it kept him from finding someone else in Kira. She's scared it didn't. And she doesn't know what it is she's apologizing for but it seems like the right thing to do. ]
I need to hurt you. And don't let Erica come her safe no matter what. Please. Scott, you to stay away. I need you. And don't want to keep her. I don't want to stay away. I don't want to keep her. I don't let Erica come here either. I need to keep her safe no matter safe no matter safe no matter what. Please. Scott, you. And don't let Erica come her. I don't want to stay away. I need to stay away. I need to stay away. I need you to keep her what. Please. Scott, you need to hurt you need you to stay a
[three guesses where he is when he finally replies]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ totally new information to him!!!!!!! not ]
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How weird?
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Things were kind of complicated the last time you were here. But it's okay, and he'll get over it, I promise.
[ More like "we'll get over it". ]
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I didn't think it'd be fair to make you worry about it.
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ily
[ That one's sent off quickly, impulsive, but he follows it up with a more measured answer about a minute later. ]
The other Lydia lied to everyone. She did it because she thought she had to, but it made things kind of tense.
[ The other Lydia, not her. And if it's still vague, it's because he doesn't want to bring up Peter. ]
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Lied about what?
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She said that she was from our future and that she knew what happened. That we were all a pack, so we should all cooperate.
[ But they are all pack, aren't they? Enough so that she'll question why that's such a big deal. A second's delay, then he finally gets to the catch: ]
So that we would cooperate with Peter. He was on the ship, too. He's the one who made her lie.
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[ Just like he told him about the whole murder thinG YEAh......... ]
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[ He'd smell him, for one. But he's pretty sure knowing when your so-called Alpha is around is something that comes with the territory. ]
Even if he was here, we'd deal with it together.
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We're better than we were before.
[ He hopes he is. He knows she is, that she'd trust him enough to ask for help, this time, though there's still the sting of why she hadn't to begin with — why it'd been so easy for Peter to get under her skin. They'd already let it happen to her once. ]
I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to ask for the truth.
No more secrets, okay? I swear.
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Even if the feeling isn't mutual, I do.
text.
text.
[ A few seconds later: ]
How long has Isaac been like this?
text.
It's been a while. And getting worse. Has he told you anything?
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No. Just that he doesn't want my help. Lydia said he's taking orders from the creepy ship guy.
[ Paraphrasing. ]
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Do you know what kinds of orders?
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It told him to kill someone. And he did.
1/2
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Who?
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It wasn't a passenger on the ship. There was a group that came aboard. It was one of them.
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Like the pirates?
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We'll find a way to bring him back.
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[ and derek wasn't sure that isaac did. or he hadn't, before scott had arrived. ]
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Still, after a few long seconds: ]
Thanks. For this and for Liam.
[ Explaining it, having his back. Everything. ]
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It's alright. You would do the same for me.
[ that's clear to derek now. it might have taken him a long time to come to that understanding, but he doesn't doubt it. not anymore. ]
backdated to the last jump!! action;
Mostly because Scott's not the only one who realized this sounds like a date. It wasn't how she'd meant it, the need to talk about Things trumps any fun they might be having with them hanging out on their own. (And not even, you know, sexy fun, she's resolutely not even thinking about that.) When she gets to her room, she paces back and forth for a few strides, finally remembering to break the mountain ash line so he can get in. She scoops up part of it, dusts it off back into the jar she'd taken when Stiles had left, and then shoves it into her storage space, pausing when a piece of red fabric pokes out.
It's his jersey, and she'd taken to sleeping in it now and then, out of... nostalgia. A need to cling for some kind of normalcy. She missed him, and it doesn't hurt to admit it, even if it feels wrong somehow. She'd ended it, even if she did still love him. And it hadn't been fair that she'd laid that out on him. It was only Lydia's reassurance that he was doing alright afterward that lessened the guilt.
Because the truth of the matter was, she wasn't going to take it back. Not now, maybe not ever. She didn't want to, and she was getting a second chance at life, here. Maybe a relationship wasn't something she'd ever be able to pursue with him again, but — friends. She still wanted to be his friend, and the source of her nerves was the fact she wasn't sure just how awkward it would be.
She's left the door open for him, and when he arrives, she's sitting on her bed, the jersey folded in her lap. She's got her comm out and she's scrolling through the network with a pensive look on her face. Apparently some naked guy had gone berserk right after she'd left with Scott, but it was someone else's turn to wrestle a naked newbie to the brig. She has more important things to worry about. ]
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He ends up loitering in his old doorway for a good five minutes with nothing to do but think, and that's — kind of what he'd been trying to avoid, but he needs to, right? He can't just meet up with Allison totally blind. Can't just drag out another I'm okay or it's fine when he knows it isn't, really, even if it's more complicated than not okay.
They'd both moved on. That isn't the problem. The problem is that she was gone, and now that she's here all of the what if's in the world are suddenly a lot less abstract, and he has no idea how to deal. Standing her up for a not-date is probably not the right way to deal, though, so he finally drags himself away from his old room and onto the lift, nervously scratches at the inside of his jeans pocket with a thumb as he waits for the door to open, then heads to her room.
The door's open, and he only hesitates for half a second before letting himself in. He recognizes the red of the jersey in her lap on sight, recognizes it as his own a beat later, and he takes up that line of thought before he can awkwardly stall out. ] Is that... ?
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[ Allison stands, and walks over to him, holding it out. ] I thought maybe you might want it back.
[ Was it supposed to be this awkward? All the what ifs and maybes and things that were said that were supposed to have ended when they did? It hadn't been this awkward talking about anything with anyone else. Maybe it was just because it was Scott.
It was like the closet all over again. Except for the part of him that was doing something. ]
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You can keep it. I mean, if you want to keep it? [ So awkward. He realizes how weirdly presumptuous the offer sounds as soon as he makes it, lips pressing together in a chagrined expression that matches hers as he gently takes the jersey. He can see the edge of the numbers, the way it's folded up, and he considers it for a second in silence.
Lacrosse seems... really, really unimportant. But there's still a nostalgia to it that's hard to ignore. Other things that are hard to ignore: the elephant in the room. That silence stretches on for a few heavy seconds, then he rallies enough courage to get to the point. ] How much do you remember?
[ Not enough courage to look her in the eye, or sound particularly confident of the question. It's said quietly, gaze still downcast, giving her ample chance to dodge it if she wants to. ]
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[ The words tumble out of her mouth before he even finishes the question. She doesn't even realize she's saying it until the last word has left her throat, and she clenches her jaw tight in an effort to keep anything else from slipping out that she doesn't want to. Her fingers grasp at his jersey, knuckles white as she grips it tight. Allison's fear is palpable; he'd probably be able to feel it even without an uncanny sense of smell or the ability to hear her heart rate. She takes a couple of deep breaths in a vain attempt to calm the former, and swallows thick. ]
Everything. Up until the end. I'm sorry.
[ She's afraid he won't remember. She's afraid he will. She's afraid that it's different with Scott, that everything will be from now on because no one else got a love confession with her last breath. It was cruel, a part of her observes from a distance, to say that to him when he was beginning to move on. She's scared it kept him from finding someone else in Kira. She's scared it didn't. And she doesn't know what it is she's apologizing for but it seems like the right thing to do. ]
text.
i'm sorry
[because he's already on his way there. he had to go.]
voice.
Isaac?!
[ He's not really sure he's going to get an answer, but he's trying anyway. ]
voice.
[three guesses where he is when he finally replies]