23} i swear this will not be the end...

[theresalwayshope]

[Forward dated to Monday; CLOSED SPAM:SCOTT]



[Just a moment longer.

It's not a lie. She's not breaking her promise...she just wants to make sure they're going to be able to handle it before she leaves.

And so she stays just one moment longer...and another moment longer...

Once she gets home, after her visit with Alrianne (who reminds her enough of Lydia to make Allison love her), she falls into a strange state of being, one where the Barge fades into the back of her mind...little more than a dream, a distant thought carried easily away as things with Stiles get worse. She never truly forgets, not really...there are moments she'll be busy talking to her dad, or the rest of the pack, or she's driving to Derek's loft, and it will hit her like a fist to the gut, so hard she can't breathe...

Then someone will speak to her. A katana will come at her, a bullet will fly, Isaac will smile at her, and it slips through her fingers like water.

The memories don't start sticking until she calls her dad about going after Lydia.

And then she promises herself that she's only going to stay just one moment longer.

She's terrified as she lashes out at each Oni in turn, arrow after arrow and blow after blow. She keeps waiting for it, the killing blade they told her about...she's so close, she has to be careful, she promised she'd come back alive...

In the end, it's not Lydia she dies for. It's Lydia she fights for, like her life depends on it because it does. Because she promised she would live. She's going to hold off one more Oni, knock one more back so maybe someone can get close to the Nogitsune, and then she's gone.

She fights to live for Lydia...and then the Oni is on top of Isaac.

Her hunch plays out, and the Oni is destroyed. Isaac is safe.

They'll be okay...she can go now.

She turns right into the Oni's blade...just as she is about to leave, just as her mind and soul are crying out before the words can leave her mouth, asking the Admiral to take her back...

Get me out of here. I'm ready.

[Scott isn't there when she falls. Instead of pavement in the dead of night, she collapses onto the smooth, dim floor of a corridor on the Barge when the Oni takes back his katana, pulling it out of her body.

She knows the floor, knows the lighting...it doesn't hurt, but she can feel herself bleeding. The cold is seeping in, and the light is getting dark...

Allison presses a hand to her sternum uselessly, trying to make it stop, and lifts her head.

She knows that door...knows that number.

And all at once, she sees with perfect clarity, a way to keep her promise.

It wastes precious strength, but Allison manages to crawl closer to Scott's door, grunting and grimacing as breath leaves her lungs and doesn't return, as the cold continues to spread. When she can reach, she pounds on the lower half of the door, managing little more than a soft thud of a bloodstained fist.]

Scott!

[Her voice is thin and strangled, a shout that comes out as a sigh. She shuts her eyes, gathers what little strength she has...and she tries again.]

Scott!

[Tuesday; Video:PUBLIC]

[When the feed clicks on and Allison's smiling face becomes visible, it's one that's glowing with good health, and something else that's been absent for a long while now: real joy, and something very close to peace.

The infirmary is visible behind her, but it recedes as she speaks because she's leaving it. She's grinning, her cheeks are pink with a lively flush...she's not wounded, sick, or undead.

She is, however, singsonging playfully as her smile grows, splitting her face cheerfully.]

Guess who's baaaaaaack?

[Giggling, she rolls her neck as she emerges from the infirmary and starts walking briskly towards her cabin.]

So! I came home with clothes, new friends...thank you again, Zane! Alrianne is awesome...and a brand new perspective. Truthfully, I feel a lot better than I did...

[She sobers, her stride slowing, and though her features darken just a little, that new almost-peace doesn't leave her.]

...and I understand a lot more about my future.

[She shakes it off, and with a toss of her hair she's smiling again.]

I have some stuff to do, but I'll be in my cabin in about an hour...anyone who wants to drop by and say hello can come see me then. But I'm here, I'm okay...I feel good, and this time I'm not undead.

[Giggling, she waves at the feed...and if her eyes appear to glow for an instant, it's probably nothing to worry about.

Just a trick of the light.

With that, she switches away to filters and sends a few private messages.]

[Beacon Hills Residents Filter]

Don't come see me. I'm not hiding, I'm fine, I'm just gonna hit you all up separately to visit. Got some restless energy I wanna burn off, I need to pick up Duchess from Duke, I want to check on Tig...just let me make my rounds, walk it off, and I'll be there soon.

And to all of you...I'm not sorry for what I did back home? But I am sorry I was such an ass here. I can't say I won't ever put my life on the line for any of you again, but I will absolutely swear that I'm going to work harder to make sure I don't have to.

...I missed all of you. Like, a ton.

[PRIVATE;Duke]

I want to pick up Duchess...but can you be there? Say, meet me in your cabin in ten minutes? I don't just want to grab her by myself. I'll explain more when I get there.

[PRIVATE;Tig]

I'm home, and I missed you bunches. Are you okay? Tell me where you are so I can come collect a hug. I need one.

[PRIVATE;Admiral]

Hello, sir. I have two things...first, I need to know if there's any way I can change my deal.

Two...I started some of this before I left? And I finished it up during my infirmary stay last night. It's...well, I guess it's a Christmas list. So...

Tig: A box of cigars. I know he smokes cigarettes, but maybe he can regift them. Also? You know everyone better than they know themselves sometimes...at least I think so. Anyway, back home Tig had a dog. I’d like him to have his dog...that way, Duke can have his dog back. And speaking of...

Duke: I’d like to give him a small case of ammunition with a fleur-de-lis engraved on every shell casing, and some really good alcohol (NO VODKA). I’d also like to give the aforementioned dog, Brownie, some tennis balls, rope toys, and a fabulous new collar. Something with pretty rhinestones, and a tag with her name on it.

Isaac: Some new scarves and cardigans. One set of a scarf and cardigan should have a fleur-de-lis stitched in silver thread. And, uhm...I’d also like some lingerie in my size, preferably black or dark blue. Something kind of...sexy. Let’s put it this way, something Lydia would approve of me wearing. And trust me, this is a Christmas present for Isaac, so please make it pretty.

Kira: a crossbow of her own, with a fleur-de-lis embossed on the stock, with some solid wood bolts. Also a set of her own Chinese ring daggers, like mine, and a karaoke machine. Girl needs to get her sing on more often.

Lydia: She has a dog back home, Prada? I'd like her to have him back. Also? I want her to have a really fabulous pair of shoes. Maybe...Manolo Blahnik. Something in black, maybe boots? Also, an electrified baton, like the one I have. 900,000 volts should do.

Scott: A bunch of new video games, and a portable video game system, like a Nintendo DS or something. I don't know much about video games, but I'd like him to have something he can take with him on ports or something. And some games to go with it. Also, this may be weird...but I'd like to arrange for Scott to have some time alone with Kira. Nothing high pressure, but...I want them to spend some time together. Have fun...maybe lock them in the Enclosure for a night with a really pretty outdoor setting? I just...want to give them a little push together.

Stiles: Some pictures of his mom and dad, framed for his room, and if you can give him the thing I'm about to ask for? I'd like his cabin expanded to accommodate a life size Darth Vader figure.

Jackson: Truthfully, I don't know what to ask for to give to Jackson...can you give him something that will make him happy for a little while? Or just...make him happy? Like, really happy.

Morgana: I'd like you to give her a really nice collection of stories about Robin Hood. Mythologies, fictional tales, any age or time period.

Riddick: a really nice set of cookware, and a case of good red wine for cooking. I want to challenge him to see which of us can make the best beef bourguignon.

Zane: I don't really know how to ask for this...I want to give him a bunch of metal, the stuff he uses to make his powers work? Also a pile of grass and willow bark toys for his rabbits, and a silver arrowhead with a fleur-de-lis on it. They're...well, let's call it a token of friendship.

Steve Rogers: Please get him a new sketchbook, some charcoal and pencils, and maybe even an easel, some canvases, and some oil paints. Oh, and some books on Rembrandt to remind him of our museum visit in Amsterdam. Also, based on some stuff I've heard...I'd like Steve to have his very own Beacon Hills High School lacrosse jersey.

Bucky Barnes: I've seen him in some plaid shirts like Stiles has? I want him to have some jeans and t-shirts, too. I'd also like for him to have a modern day stereo, with some CDs to go with it. Big band stuff, though, things from his own time.

Vergil Sparda: I'd like to give him a bottle of good alcohol...no vodka. I'd also like to give him a leatherbound edition of The Three Musketeers by Dumas. It's near and dear to my heart, and I think he'll enjoy it.

Iris Wildthyme: ...I honestly have no idea what to get the woman who can get whatever she wants, so I'd like to give her three dozen yellow roses, because yellow represents friendship and they'll make her cabin brighter for a little while.

Jerry Dandridge: I'd like to give Jerry a gift...a fulgurite sphere. It was either Lydia or Stiles that once told me fulgurite is made when lightning strikes sand. It's proof that sometimes, when a dangerous and volatile thing is set free, something beautiful and good can result. I want him to think of me when he sees it...what he did to me, and what I'm going to do for him.

And for everyone else I know, stockings full of candy and little things they would enjoy. Also, one more thing...

For everyone on this list except Jerry, I'd like to have baseboards installed in their cabins, made of mountain ash. Not the door jamb, though, leave that free...but if they want to protect themselves, they can just request a small amount of mountain ash from you and put it down on their own.

[Open Tuesday Spam]

[After picking up Duchess from Duke's cabin, Allison visits the cabin of everyone from Beacon Hills in turn, explaining what happened and assuring them she's okay...and each visit makes it easier somehow, settles the newborn beast living in her skin until she's nearly rid of that restless energy, that sense of being on edge and ready to jump at anything.

An hour later, as promised, she spends some time in her cabin, but later she ventures to the dining hall for a healthy, protien-heavy meal, and if she hasn't heard from him already, she'll be prowling the corridors, looking for Tig to check in with him and make sure he's okay.

Aside from that, feel free to find Allison just about anywhere on the ship...either sneaking up on you silently by accident, or with her head lifted in the air, possibly cocked to one side, listening to all the new sounds and breathing in all the new scents that are flooding her heightened senses.]

Comments

video

[godsays]

I knew you'd like her.

[ HE WAS SO RIGHT. and now he wants to ask all the questions. Did Alrianne throw a ball? Were there any exciting adventures? Any fun mysteries to solve? Things always seem to Happen around Alrianne and her husband Breeze. ]

video

[theresalwayshope]

I totally do! She's like...Lydia on steroids. She sent me home with dresses and stuff, there was a party...she made sure I didn't even feel a little bit homesick.

Can we go visit her again sometime? Like, you and me together? She sends her best, by the way.

video

[godsays]

Yes. We can.

You seem better.

[private]

[lydiascreams]

[Lydia wakes up from a deep sleep when she hears a familiar voice. Her eyelids are heavy as she reaches sleepily on the bedside table for the communicator.

She didn't have a good night's sleep. Not for part of it, anyway. She woke up with her stomach twisting and feeling heavy, with tears in her eyes and that terrible chill in her spine. Luckily, though, Stiles was there. Like he always is. Like he still is now, with arms wrapped around her and his face buried in her hair. But the nightmare, feeling, whatever it was, just as it shook her awake, it went away. And with a few soothing words, apparently, she crashed hard. She has no idea what time it is, or even if she's really awake as she hears a very perky version of the familiar voice.

Lydia props herself up slightly and as she answers with a video of her own, in the darkness of the room, it's impossible to see much more than an aura of red hair and her pale face. She's not entirely sure she's awake.]

Allison?

[private]

[theresalwayshope]

Alive and kicking your door in shortly!

[She pauses, blinking as she peers into the feed. Okay, first independent lesson in lycanthropy: it doesn't really work through comms that well. Still, it works well enough that she worries.

The soft, canine whine that briefly filters through the feed could be coming from absolutely anywhere.]

Unless I shouldn't?...sweetie, are you okay? [It couldn't be Allison that made her look like such a wreck. Scott bit her, the infirmary kept her stable...she didn't die.

She didn't break her promise. She didn't.]

[private]

[lydiascreams]

[It takes her a second, but the words do sink in after a moment and she opens her eyes a little wider. This time, actually taking in Allison's image on the video.]

I'm fine, I was sleeping-- [And maybe, if she had been aware of what she was doing, she wouldn't have answered a video call in these conditions, but it's Allison. She tries to push herself up but doesn't quite manage it.]

When did you get back? Are you okay?

[PRIVATE]

[termofendearment]

[Tig's end of the feed clicks on, first giving an odd angle and then some dizzying camerawork as he tries to shuffle things a little, murmured voices accompanying it without anything easily discernible in view. He's not in the shot at first, although his voice is heard easily enough, if hushed.]

Hang on, baby, I gotta get this.

[And then he's on camera, evidently still in bed, if the scenery behind him is any indication, although he's dressed, at least.]

Heyyy somebody's in a good mood. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Welcome back.

[If things were tense between them when she left, there's no sign of it now; if anything he just grins at her like he hasn't seen her in a lifetime. It only took a few hours for everything to sort itself out in his head, by now he's pretty much got everything straight, but it's still been months since he's seen her. There's a quietly relieved look underneath, like he wasn't entirely sure she would come back (he's got years of experience with girls her age and a little older, he's long since learned to expect nothing until they need something), but he at least looks a hell of a lot better than when he first came back. He glances somewhere next to him, then tilts his head to regard something further away, then returns his attention to the camera.]

I got a couple houseguests right now, but you can come over whenever. Just gotta promise not to lecture when you get here, alright?

[PRIVATE]

[theresalwayshope]

[Allison smiles...but loses her smile with a vaguely puzzled look at the soft, off-camera conversation and the mention of his warning, just before she fixes him with a stern look.]

Okay, what did you do, who do I have to kill, who are you banging, and did you die?

[She abruptly lifts a hand into view to stop him, then shakes her head.]

Never mind. I'm getting Duchess, I'm coming over, and your houseguests better like bunny rabbits.

[She hesitates, then narrows her eyes...and if there's a ghost of gold in their dark depths, perhaps it's a trick of the light.]

And nobody better be naked Tig oh my God.

[PRIVATE]

[termofendearment]

Nothing, nobody, again nobody, and jury's still out.

[But there's a hint of a laugh, because he can't fault her for making any of the assumptions she does. It's thin, ginger, like he has to be careful about it, but nothing within the shot speaks to why.

He shrugs.]

Sure. Pretty sure they'll manage okay. Come on down.

I'll try to make sure we're all dressed by the time you get here. Can't be tainting any impressionable young eyes, I know, I know.

[The smirk says he knows there wouldn't be any chance of that regardless, but he's just screwing with her anyway.]

[Spam]

[semifreakingnormal]

[It was a good trip. Cassel and Chris seemed mostly okay, and the time spent with Daneca was great. He really had missed her, and getting time to see where she lives was just...great.

He's only been back a few minuets, really, with his backpack full of dirty clothes half opened on the floor. He's laying back, staring at the ceiling wistfully and thinking back on the days he was gone, when he smells it.

It's sharp, and tangy, and at once it makes the predator in him want to hunt - but it reminds the real him that it's wrong, wrong, so wrong, that he knows that smell, that he's smelled that way too often before--

He's heading for the door before he even hears the knock, the sigh, and where everything sped up from the moment he smelled blood, it slows down the moment he opens his door.

There's blood on the wood, not quite a hand print. A fist, maybe. He smells - death, and he sees Allison, and it feels like he stares for an eternity even though it's barely a second. This isn't real. This is a dream. You have to wake up, he thinks.

Blood rushing in his ears, Scott drops immediately to pick her up, carrying her back inside to set her on his bed. He has bandages - he can stop the bleeding - he can - he--

He sees the wound, and he knows that wound, and his throat is closing on him.]

Allison, no.

[He doesn't go for the bandages. He hovers, then let's his mom's instincts kick in when his grief threatens to overwhelm. He grabs a shirt from the floor and presses it over her stomach, holding it down as hard as he can.]

You didn't - you stayed too long, you were supposed to--

[It all happened so fast.]

[Spam]

[theresalwayshope]

[It doesn't hurt...none of it hurts. There's no peace, though, no acceptance of her fate.

Everything is weirdly sharp now, so clear in her mind and in her vision it's almost painful. She's scared, because she doesn't know how much time she has. She's dying, she can feel it, and the bite takes time...

She grabs his wrist with surprising strength when he presses a shirt to her wound.]

Scott, no!

[When she has his eye, her own are spilling over with silent, terrified tears. She thinks of Lydia, she can already hear and feel that piercing scream, spilling out all the pain and death she feels...

Without hesitating, she lifts her free arm, the soft skin of her inner forearm bared to him as she holds her gaze and shakes her head.

He can't stop the bleeding. He can't staunch the wound...but he can save her life.

He can help her keep her promise.

Her voice is a panicked whisper as she speaks.]

Don't let Lydia scream...

[Spam]

[semifreakingnormal]

[Lydia.

He hears her screaming in the back of his thoughts, remembering every single time she screamed at home, every time she screamed here, he remembers what it was like for her even through the haze of his own ache. He doesn't want her to go through that again, not so soon after coming back, not...

But he stares at Allison's arm, and he feels sick.]

It doesn't work that fast.

[His voice breaks, and he smells a hospital, so sterile it's unnatural. He hears machines humming, and himself saying I'll do something, Stiles. Back when they thought it would save him.

But he'd have had time, he wasn't bleeding out, and Scott wants to scream himself.]

Allison, it's - I can't save you--

[He looks around wildly for his communicator. They need to get a doctor. They need - someone, someone can fix this faster than he can. Someone has to protect her, because he was never able to.]

[video]

[routemistress]

[Iris is far from okay herself, but the sight of Allison's cheerful dimples make it immediately easier to react as though she is.]

You went to Scadriel? Ooooh, I 'aven't done that meself yet, I'm waiting till I can talk our Spiny into a weekend off. Good job I've got a long lifespan, eh?

Good to see you back, my darling. Our Tiggy's 'ad an absolute mob of new friends show up while you were gone. I mean old friends, you know what I mean.

[video]

[theresalwayshope]

[People from home? Allison's interest is perked as she grins at Iris.]

No kidding? Well, I guess I have some introductions to make...and seriously, Iris, you need to go. Zane's friend, Alrianne, she's the best, and I had so much fun...I even brought home clothes. How great is that?

Spam

[with_my_teacup]

[Riddick runs into her at lunch-- one of those shifts he doesn't work during, and just gets to eat.

He tips his head, a not quite deliberate counterpoint to her posture. Her body language would tip him off even if he couldn't smell the difference-- she's reacting to low volume sounds, unusually alert.

She may have some shared memories of the way he smells. Not human. Not... quite. He's not a wolf, either; if he has an animal tinge to him it's not canine.]

...You need one of those signs. "I have gone insert-number days without having my DNA rewritten."

Spam

[theresalwayshope]

[It's like the beast remembers for her, the transformation activating some weird animal memory that makes his scent both alien and familiar as she pauses in the middle of retrieving a burger from the food line. She turns at the sound of his voice, however, connecting scent to name and grinning when her gaze meets his.]

Yeah, probably...but this time? Definitely a lot more welcome.

Re: Spam

[with_my_teacup]

One-hundred percent voluntary?

[punched_hitler]

I guess the vacation went well, then?

Welcome back. It's good to see you. [And see you smiling.]

[theresalwayshope]

...I'd say coming back here went better than going away did. [She grins, waggling her fingers at Steve in a wave.] I missed you guys.

[punched_hitler]

Well, we missed you, too. It wasn't the same without you.

And I hope you found what you were looking for.

[private]

[hearrrtofgold]

Welcome back, nerd. It wasn't the same around here without you.

[He really wants to see her, but is now dreading the inevitable conversation. Regardless of Allison's newfound calm she's clearly worried about something. And he's going to have to explain that he lost Tig.]

Sure, I'll be here. You need anything?

[private]

[theresalwayshope]

Just my baby girl...and my big, dumb pirate nerd. [Said with love, Duke, she's grinning like an idiot.]

Be there in ten minutes...I missed you.

[private]

[hearrrtofgold]

The bunny's here but I don't know about any big dumb nerd. [He smiles back, waiting for the other shoe to drop.]

I missed you too. [Ten minutes gives him enough time to make her a cup of really good hot chocolate, despite her refusal.]

[ Spam ] Latest tag-in everrrr hope you don't mind

[surfaceshine]

[It's not that Dean didn't see Allison's return speech; it's not that some part of him, buried and silent, isn't glad to see that she seems to be really alright. It's that he deliberately ignored it, and her, and the niggling doubt because Dean doesn't see things like tricks of the light and disbelieve his own hunter's eyes. He's relied on his instincts far too much in the past, been rewarded for it far too many times, to begin doubting them now.

So he ignores her broadcast, but that might not become explicitly clear until he's walking out onto the deck and looks up to see her in front of him. His cool, detached expression doesn't change when their eyes meet, but the next moment he's blatantly changing his course and walking in the opposite direction he'd originally been going - and her.]

[ Spam ] ALWAYS THE DEAN TAGS, ALWAYS

[theresalwayshope]

[She hears him coming before she sees him, catches his scent before he comes into view to let her put his face to it: cotton and leather and something deeper, a musky, smoky mixture of skin and pheremones that fills her with the essence of him.

His chemosignals...that undefinable chemical scent that brings emotion she can't connect to...those are a lot more confusing, a lot less blatant.

Still, as he walks away she smiles softly, taking a few steps to follow after him.]

I'm okay, you know! The way I am...I can be who I am now. I'm not afraid anymore.