001} video: if love is what you need, a soldier i will be

[theresalwayshope]

[When the video switches on, Allison's face fills the screen in extreme close-up, an intensely thoughtful look on her features as she struggles to navigate the function of her communicator.]

C'mon...are you even on? [Her voice is low and impatient...then her expression comes alive when she realizes she's on display. Flinching a little, then smiling at her work, she backs up enough to be seen, visible seated at the desk in her cabin.]

Hi. [She smiles and offers up a little wave, then pauses for a moment before laughing as she lets her gaze drop.] Okay, this is way weirder than I thought it was going to be.

[She starts talking with her hands a little, not quite speaking to the communicator anymore.] I guess...I'm just restless. Out of practice, I haven't had to move around for a long time. I haven't been assigned to anyone just yet, but I know I will be. And I just want to introduce myself, you know? Put myself out there for anyone who wants my help. And I honestly do want to help. It's why I came.

[She lifts her head more fully, looking into the communicator with something a little different in her gaze...a little less friendly teenager and a little harder, a little older.]

It's...one reason I came.

[The moment passes, the look fades, and her smile brightens again as she takes a steadying breath.]

But I'm not here to complain about myself, right? So! Um... [A hand goes to her chest as she gestures to herself.] My name is Allison, I'm from Beacon Hills, California...and if any of you need anything at all? Just let me know. I look forward to getting to know everyone!

[She shifts, and part of her body moves out of the picture.]

Now if you'll excuse me...I still have to get settled in.

[She turns around to survey the rest of her room...neat as a pin, in perfect order...not a lot to be settled, really.]

Or...not...

Comments

[diealone]

Trust me, you won't be the only one complaining about yourself.

[He's joking, but also not. Jack's in the infirmary, wearing clean blue scrubs and a white lab coat. He maybe looks a little tired, but definitely seems better off than most of the other people who responded right after port ended.]

So, you're Scott's Allison. [Which he's saying sort of to make fun of Scott, but also lol he does talk a lot about you. BV Or did, anyway.]

[theresalwayshope]

[By the time she hears the even, friendly male voice, she's feeling a lot more grounded for having been in touch with her friends. More like a human being...the pieces of herself she patched together badly before leaving Beacon Hills have been reassembled properly, and she's whole.]

I'm...not his Allison, but... [She's arguing semantics with a stranger, and the fact that she feels enough like herself to do that makes her smile, broad and bright as she laughs a little and nods, dropping her gaze.]

Yeah. I am...do you know Scott pretty well, then?

[diealone]

He's my warden.

[Which is always sort of a crappy thing to admit to, since he's still really not okay with the whole being an inmate thing. He'd been trying to do the right thing, he's not some psychopath.]

Jack Shephard. I work in the infirmary.

[theresalwayshope]

[...wow. Okay.

It's not that he's older, it's more that he seems...nice. Normal. She doesn't know why she expected that every Inmate would be obvious. That they'd be bad people in need of saving. She never stopped to think, before she boarded, that there would be Inmates...

Well, Inmates who were more like her.

She's quiet for only a moment before she offers up a soft smile.]

It's nice to meet you, Jack.

[She pauses, lowering her gaze as she restlessly picks at one cuticle.]

And you probably know this already? But you're in the best possible hands. I'm not saying that as his friend...I'm saying that as someone he's already saved. I'd probably be an Inmate here myself if it wasn't for him.

[diealone]

[Well. That's not exactly where he'd expected this to be going.]

What makes you say that?

[theresalwayshope]

Because it's true.

[Her features darken with shame as she stares hard at her hands, mouth thinning into a tense line.]

I...don't know how much you know about Scott, so I'm just...going to give you an example, because context really doesn't matter. It's what I did that matters. There was a night I was out hunting. I was with my father, we were on an ATV and I was using a recording to herd our prey into position for capture. At least that's what my father wanted...

[She can still remember the mournful recorded howls of the wolves...how she had to force herself to forget Scott every time she played the recording to get Boyd and Erica where she wanted them. Even though she hasn't shared details, the regret and the horror...the guilt of what she'd done shows on her face.]

When we finally cornered them...when I cornered them...it feels like I put about a dozen arrows in him. He kept getting up, and I just kept shooting. Every time I hit my mark, I felt good. I felt powerful, I felt...vindicated.

The prey we were hunting was a couple of kids I went to school with. The boy I shot up was named Vernon Boyd. He was with a girl, Erica Reyes...that's who I was when Scott saved me. And if it wasn't for him? I'd have killed someone...I'd be where you are right now, and I couldn't have made my deal with the Admiral.