Allison Argent (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theresalwayshope) wrote2015-05-28 11:47 am
theresalwayshope) wrote2015-05-28 11:47 am
33) will i ever hear your voice again? the darkness is like an old friend...
[Spam-ish - OPEN]
[When Allison returns to the Barge, she's happier than she's ever been. Paris was a perfect vacation, she's loaded down with new clothes, shoes, food, and souvenirs...and she's spent several days of her week in a luxurious borrowed bed with Isaac wrapped around her like a blanket.
She goes looking for her people, but they don't all show up right away. She waits to check on people as they seem to pop back in clusters, scans the network, and settles in to the task of unpacking, tending her animals...she has plenty to keep her busy.
As the hours wear on, however, she feels a growing sense of...something. She can't put her finger on it, but there's something that's just not right.
She sleeps on it. The trip was fun, but exhausting in a good way. Sliding into a new satin sleep shirt she got at a boutique in Paris, she curls up in bed with Brownie tucked against her back and Duchess curled against her chest.
It's the perfect end to a perfect trip.
In the morning, she walks the ship looking for the pack. Every scent she finds without a problem, every heartbeat, every voice...all but one.
She's not ready for what she finds when she reaches Isaac's cabin.
There's no announcement. No message on the network, no text to those that know and love him.
Mid morning, the only word that anyone gets about Isaac's departure is the soul-shattering howl of a werewolf in mourning.
She's a nonentity on the ship that day. For a while, at least, Allison stays huddled in the corner of Isaac's abandoned cabin, sobbing openly. Later, if no one's found her there, she will flee down to Zero, where she can be found tucked into the furthest corner of the farmost cell with the door standing open. She'll no longer be weeping openly, but as she stares at the nearest wall, tears continue to spill silently from her eyes as she tries to make the open wound in her chest start healing.
Duke is gone, and she's coped. Zane is gone, and she had Duchess to hold onto, to make that loss easier to bear.
Isaac, however, is gone...she can feel that he's gone, and she can't bear it because she let him in so much further than she had before she arrived on the Barge.
Forgetting life with him is so much harder. It hurts that much more to carve him out of herself...to believe in a world without his constant, comforting warmth until she gets her deal and she can go home.
She has to stitch that hole back up and eliminate everything he gave to her here...because it's the only way she's going to be able to keep going without him.]
[When Allison returns to the Barge, she's happier than she's ever been. Paris was a perfect vacation, she's loaded down with new clothes, shoes, food, and souvenirs...and she's spent several days of her week in a luxurious borrowed bed with Isaac wrapped around her like a blanket.
She goes looking for her people, but they don't all show up right away. She waits to check on people as they seem to pop back in clusters, scans the network, and settles in to the task of unpacking, tending her animals...she has plenty to keep her busy.
As the hours wear on, however, she feels a growing sense of...something. She can't put her finger on it, but there's something that's just not right.
She sleeps on it. The trip was fun, but exhausting in a good way. Sliding into a new satin sleep shirt she got at a boutique in Paris, she curls up in bed with Brownie tucked against her back and Duchess curled against her chest.
It's the perfect end to a perfect trip.
In the morning, she walks the ship looking for the pack. Every scent she finds without a problem, every heartbeat, every voice...all but one.
She's not ready for what she finds when she reaches Isaac's cabin.
There's no announcement. No message on the network, no text to those that know and love him.
Mid morning, the only word that anyone gets about Isaac's departure is the soul-shattering howl of a werewolf in mourning.
She's a nonentity on the ship that day. For a while, at least, Allison stays huddled in the corner of Isaac's abandoned cabin, sobbing openly. Later, if no one's found her there, she will flee down to Zero, where she can be found tucked into the furthest corner of the farmost cell with the door standing open. She'll no longer be weeping openly, but as she stares at the nearest wall, tears continue to spill silently from her eyes as she tries to make the open wound in her chest start healing.
Duke is gone, and she's coped. Zane is gone, and she had Duchess to hold onto, to make that loss easier to bear.
Isaac, however, is gone...she can feel that he's gone, and she can't bear it because she let him in so much further than she had before she arrived on the Barge.
Forgetting life with him is so much harder. It hurts that much more to carve him out of herself...to believe in a world without his constant, comforting warmth until she gets her deal and she can go home.
She has to stitch that hole back up and eliminate everything he gave to her here...because it's the only way she's going to be able to keep going without him.]
private, text
[It'll get her out of Zero. It'll get her back to work...and she won't be alone. And, she realizes distantly, she can check in with him. Once again, she feels a stab of guilt for how little they've talked lately, a dull throb through the grief...
She sends the message and starts pulling herself to her feet, scrubbing her hands over her face as she heads for the upper deck.]
private, text
[And he'll be waiting for her outside, dressed in jeans, a flannel shirt and a jacket with his hands shoved in the pockets. Even with his memories back, he feels no where close to comfortable wearing his Army uniforms anymore, so civvies it is.
He tries to smile when he sees Allison approaching, but it comes out small and kind of forced. Not much to smile about with this, anyway.]
private, text
Something is off. She's too upset to put her finger quite on it...and something's happened to his scent. He smells different, too.
This isn't right.
She walks up to him, then after a moment reaches out, uncertain and a little clumsy to hug him. She does it to offer comfort, even if she can't really offer it...but after a moment, her hold tightens, and unconsciously tightens more, drawing as much comfort from it as she's offering.
She forgets her own strength for a second. It's Bucky, and she hasn't seen him in a while, and something, everything is so, so wrong...]
spam
He doesn't say it's okay, or it's going to be okay. He doesn't feel like he can tell people things like that anymore, like he can't promise something he's not confident in himself, but he doesn't let go and doesn't complain when she holds on tighter, either. That has to count for something, right?]
spam
She doesn't have to do or say a thing, she can just...exist, and hurt, and it's actually okay.
For long minutes, she hangs onto him, then with a shaky sigh finally draws back, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze.]
Thank you.
[Stepping back to open the pub door, she lets him in ahead of her before heading behind the bar.]
I didn't hurt you, did I? Sorry, I...forget my strength when I get upset sometimes.
spam
He follows her in and shakes his head at her question.]
You're fine. [He's been hurt worse in worse ways before, getting squeezed a little too hard isn't a bad thing. Besides, he's built to be sturdy now.
He doesn't try to push her to start talking, sliding onto a stool and just watching her as she steps behind the bar.]
spam
[The words just...bubble up as she moves behind the bar, flat and toneless and as empty as she feels inside. It leaves her like a sob, something she can't control, but far more subdued.
Bucky is pack. He deserves to know.
Behind the bar, she glances at the bottles behind her, then back to Bucky. Her eyes are bright, but the tears won't fall.]
What are you drinking?