theresalwayshope | 003} can't no preacher man save my soul [video/spam]

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003} can't no preacher man save my soul [video/spam]

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[When Alan Argent wakes up in the morning...something doesn't feel quite right.

He can't really put his finger on it as he gets up to take a shower. He's a little confused as he strips off his shirt, wondering if he was really that exhausted that he forgot to put on shorts before he went to bed the night before. It's all sort of...fuzzy...

The real problem comes when he gets to his closet...and it's filled with girls' clothes.

He lets himself freak out for...maybe a minute. He frantically searches every hanger, his bureau, even under the bed, but there's nothing he can wear. And he damn sure can't run around the Barge in just a towel.

It takes a while, but he finally finds a pair of gym shorts in an unlabeled box in the back of his closet. There's also a couple of t-shirts in there, and Alan doesn't understand what it's doing there. It's not supposed to be in that back corner, underneath his case of carbon arrow shafts. It's taking up the space where another box should be...

Alan takes a deep breath and shakes his head. He's already lost it once, he can't let himself fall apart again. Besides, he has to find Lydia and make sure she's okay. Maybe this was one of those floods he kept hearing about, but one that just...swapped out all their clothes?...

He slides on the shorts, not bothering with a shirt. It's already weird enough, wearing someone else's clothes. Grabbing his comm, and the sheath with his ring daggers, Alan stalks out of his cabin and into the halls, where anyone can run into him.

First, he'll check on Lydia. Then they can make sure the rest of the pack is okay.]

[PACK FILTER]

Guys? Something weird is going on.

[The male face with a certain familiar bone structure is bouncing a little on the screen. He's not bothering to keep his voice down, and he's clearly walking through the ship's corridors...and he's not even remotely happy.]

I woke up, and all my clothes? Gone. It's like I'm living in a girl's room. I just...this isn't right. So just let me know you're all okay, or I'm gonna come and break your cabin doors down. [The threat is quiet, gentled with a sliver of forced humor, but the concern in his tone is very genuine.]

[Private to Lydia]

Lyds? You okay, babe?

{GENDERSWAPPED ALLISON! XD All of "Alan" Argent's replies will come from

youowemeanewbow.}

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[Alan's expression darkens with deeper confusion and growing concern. Maybe this flood is more than just closets being screwed with...it's like Scout has no idea who she is. He doesn't want to believe that, but...]

Scout... [He trails off with a quiet huff of humorless laughter and a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.] Of course you have been! You...do remember us dating, right? 'Cause I'm straight, and I'd remember dating a dude.

[That cold stillness fills his gut as he speaks, because the idea that she doesn't remember their relationship...it brings back feelings he hasn't experienced since shooting Boyd and Erica that night in the woods. Arrow after arrow until his dad shot up his bow...slice after slice through the air, and all that blood...

If Scout's forgotten him, he'll find someone to hold responsible. He'll see that blood again.]

Yeah, I remember!

[It comes out fast and high - higher than is normal, at least, he's pretty sure, judging by the tightness in his throat. His voice sounds so strange in his own ears, worse than listening to yourself on camera.

His throat works - less noticeably now - as he struggles to find some explanation or excuse. This is just a flood, he reminds himself. They're not at risk of spilling the real secret.

Finally, Scott just shakes his head - and is just a little shocked by all the hair that whips around him. Grabbing it in a fistful, he twists it over one shoulder, holding it loosely at the end.]

But, uh, you're not usually a dude. Usually I'm a dude.

This is so weird...

[Alan blinks, then shakes his head. For one brief second, a horrified, wounded look crosses his face before it melts into a facade of a smile as he laughs and shakes his head again.]

Yeah, okay...not funny, Scout. [Because none of what had happened between them would ever have gone down if he weren't a guy. If they lived in a perfect world, he'd either be a girl or the men would run things in his family, like they did in the rest of the world...he'd actually have some say, then, and he'd never have had to lose Scout.

He'd be head of the family if he were a girl. He could have changed the rules, if he were a girl. If he were a girl, and if Scout was a guy...they'd still be together, and he probably would never have had to come to the Barge. Stiles wouldn't have been possessed by the Nogitsune...then again, Scout may never have gained her Alphahood, either.

But...he'd still be with her. He knows it.]

It's not a joke!

[He looks around, completely unsure of how to convince her. Him. This isn't Allison, this is...a dude version of her, with all the memories to accompany it. Scott rubs his hands down his face.]

Okay, look. My name is Scott, and you're Allison. Or...you're usually Allison. Um.

[He doesn't want to ask this question. It's awkward and it's going to suck.]

What's your name? [He tries to smile, tries to shift it all around. It's just the Barge and the Admiral doing weird stuff. It's okay.

He is definitely trying to convince himself that he's not incredibly curious about the relationship that dude-Allison remembers.]

[...it's just weird enough to stop Alan dead in his tracks.

Because his mother wanted a girl...to pass on the legacy, to lead the family one day, she wanted a girl so badly that there's a baby book stashed somewhere in the boxes no one ever really unpacks, now laid in a trunk full of his mother's things that neither he nor Dad can bring themselves to get rid of.

It's pink, it's bound in leather...and it has the name Allison Argent stamped in gold. The name he had until his mother had her first sonogram, and soon found out she was having a worthless boy.

It's almost enough to believe her...but they're in the middle of a flood, and shit's gone totally crazy. It's not true, because if this was true then he'd still be with her. He knows it in his heart, as readily as Scout knew he'd find his way back to her someday. Their words, their promise, rings in his head every waking moment, every time he feels like giving up because he's lost too much and his friends have suffered too long.

There's no such thing as fate...there's no such thing as werewolves. Still, there they were...and there she was, proving that anything could happen.

Even winning back the girl he loved...the girl who didn't even know his name anymore. She knows about Allison...but he told her that. He had to have, right? He had to have told her that...

Rubbing a hand over his face, Alan let the cold fury in as he composed himself before he let his hand fall. When he did, his features were soft, fond, gentle...but his eyes were dead cold with fury.]

Alan. My name...is Alan.

[And Scout's dealt with too much already. Hell, he doesn't even know why she's here, except maybe she's here to save Stiles from the Nogitsune...never thinking that Alan would make that deal for her, to save her best friend...to save her, his brave, selfless, and pure-hearted Alpha from having to turn the boy she called brother into something other than a warm and vibrant human being. Now this place is screwing with her head...

This was never supposed to be her burden. It's his. It's his chance to be worthy of her again...sure, he's lost it, and her, for good, but that's the thing about Scout McCall: life's not worth living if you can't be the person she believes you are.]

Look, babe...[He doesn't even realize he's calling her that, the pet name he reserves for girls he loves, the one he's stopped using for her since the break up.] Just...truthfully, I don't know what I'd grab to bring you, so can you come to my cabin? You can wear anything in my closet you want, just...if you have any shoes that'll fit me, maybe bring those? I'm sure I can get Lyds to loan me a shirt out of the Trophy Closet or something. Just...I really want to see you.

[He wants her in his cabin, where his weapons are. Where he can protect her...where she can be safe until he can get to Lydia and Stiles and figure out what the fuck is happening.

[There's too much going on in her head. In...his head. In Alan's head. Scott can see that from here, he can see it like he used to see it with Allison. You get close and you just start understanding someone, and maybe this is him recognizing Allison in Alan.

He didn't really want to recognize cold eyes like that, but he sees it. Add he sees Allison, twisted up inside, hurt and angry and ready to take on the world and take it down, all on her own.

He wants to - all his instincts are wrong. He wants to push hair our of her face, or wrap his arms around her, but he can tell he'd have to stand on a chair to be taller than Alan right now.

That doesn't matter. Scott nods, finally, even if something like bewilderment crosses his face at the pet name. It's okay. It's all going to be fine, because it's just a flood. And until it ends - he can at least try to put Alan at ease.]

Yeah, sure. It's fine, I'll bring a few things.

[He's pretty sure he has more options than Lydia's boyfriend pile, after all - and he's not sure he wants to see anything belonging to Jackson around Alan.

Is that weird? He doesn't care.]

Just hang out there. I'll be over in a minute.

[He smiles, careful and gentle and still a little confused. It reaches his eyes. Then he kills the feed, gathers up a whole bunch of stuff - a few pairs of jeans, some tee shirts, shoes and sucks - and carries them to Allison's cabin. He needs both arms to manage it, which is annoying. Bulky and unwieldy things are just....annoying, now. Still, it doesn't take him too long before he's knocking at her door.]

[Something in Alan's chest squeezed tight when the feed went dead. He had to remind himself it was okay, that Scout was on her way over.

That he would fix this. That he would make it right...that he would help her, and kill anyone that stood in his way.

He'd always been a little hot tempered...it was one of the things his mother hated and his father got on his case about. Alan got pissed, did the opposite of what he was told, and he ended up in trouble. That was how things with Scout had started...God, he'd never forget the night Aunt Kate accused her of stealing something from her room, and Alan had been forced to show everyone the condoms he had swiped.

His parents had nearly killed him. Aunt Kate had looked embarrassed, but strangely proud. Scout had just...looked at him with an intensity and a blush in her cheeks that resulted in cold showers for the next few days.

It got worse when his parents found out Scout was the new Beta...when his own mother had nearly killed the girl he loved. If his father hadn't shown up to stop her...to make him swear he'd never see her again...

For a while, it was okay. For a while, they still had each other. Alan was Scout's anchor, and they worked as a pack to do something about Jackson...and Derek-fucking-Hale. He couldn't lie, even to himself, he'd hated Derek long before his mother ended up dead because of the son of a bitch...everywhere he walked, panties dropped, and there were times when he was trying to get Scout to join his pack that he couldn't be totally sure Derek didn't have his eye on her...

He was shaken from his thoughts by the knock at his door. Turning sharply, Alan stalked over, opened it...

She was safe.

Gently tugging her inside, Alan forgot himself. He took the clothes from her, tossed them on the floor, then promptly caught her shoulder and pulled her into a fierce hug...not caring he was only wearing a pair of gym shorts, not caring that they weren't together anymore.

He could breathe again, and his heart was pounding with sheer relief, because she was there, in his room, in his arms, and she was safe. Together or not...precious little else mattered to him.]

Oh, um--

[This? This is not a situation Scott ever expected to find himself in. This is not a situation that should have ever been possible. Who thinks about these things? What would you do if suddenly you're a girl, and suddenly your ex-girlfriend is a guy, and suddenly that ex-girl-guyfriend is holding you against his bare chest?

Yeah. This is new.

He can't sort it out, why Alan is like this - are they still together? No, otherwise they'd probably be kissing and that is definitely something to think about, too. No, they're not still together - so they're broken up, but Alan's protective of...Scout. Scout McCall. He still can't believe that.

This is way too distracting. Scott isn't even sure how to hug him back - which is generally his first instinct - because there are certain braless roadblocks that he now has to consider. Not something he ever planned for. Ever.

So he pats Alan's back in his usual way - usual when he hugs other men, at least, a solid, affectionate clapping - and leans back, trying not to feel like he shrank a solid foot. Even if he basically did.]

Hey, it's okay.

[He has to remind himself that this is essentially Allison, even if she remembers things differently than him.]

It's okay, Alan. This is only gonna be for a few days.

[He doesn't know what else to focus on but that. And maybe it's for himself, too. He is wearing boxers that don't fit right and that's a little unsettling.]

[Alan drew a deep breath, steadying himself as he drew away. He made an apologetic face, rubbing her shoulders lightly for a moment before he released her reluctantly.]

I'm sorry...I know, I'm acting like a maniac, and I'm sorry. [And he is...he wants to be an ass and write it off as her being right somehow, maybe it's PMS even though he's a guy. It's bullshit, though, and Alan knows it. As readily as he knows he's a man...]

The, uh...my closet...help yourself. [He rubs a hand over his mouth, managing a small, sheepish smile as he gestures to his closet, finally leaning down to pick through the clothes he'd dropped to find a pair of jeans that looked like they would fit. Straightening, he looked up, watching Scout with visible pain in his features as he tried to consider what she was saying...that it really might be true.]

Scout...if I'm really supposed to be a girl, and this is all just...the flood, that I don't even remember being a girl...why aren't we together?

[Scott hesitates, like maybe Alan hasn't really gotten a grip. He's not sure how to think of it - they remember different lives. It's more like he's taken over the body of an alternate self, at least, that's probably how it feels in Alan's case.

Maybe it's not all fake. Maybe Alan and Scout just exist in some other reality. Is that even possible?

A little smile pulls at his mouth as he turns away. Werewolves aren't real. How can he even question what's possible anymore? Especially here. Especially with - with any version of Allison Argent.

When Alan stoops to sort through the clothes, Scott heads for the closet, rooting through a few hangers before realizing he has no idea how to dress himself. Definitely no skirts, there's no way he'd remember to sit with his legs closed. He finds jeans, has to assume they'll fit since he has no idea how women's pants measurements work. He's debating the pros and cons of keeping his boxers versus having to return Allison's underwear to her when Alan's question comes.

Scott freezes, staring into the dark closet. It's just like he remembers it, trapped inside, trapped in his head, in something else's head. It was so hard to remember they weren't together. It was the perfect trap.

He turns slowly, jeans held in front of him. He can't even tell that they're skinny jeans.]

Um.

[That's a great start, he thinks, and blinks a few times before pulling in a deep, slow breath. The answer isn't because you died. They weren't together then, anyway. For a second, he bites his lip, wondering if she'll be one of those people who remembers everything from the flood, or nothing.]

You broke up with me. After...everything with Jackson, and your grandpa.

[He winces a little, like grandpa is too endearing a term for that man, and it is. But he's curious, too.]

Was it different for you?

[That stings...and it shouldn't have been that way. Not if it was the way she said it was--he said it was. Because supposedly, Scout was really a guy, and he was really a girl, and those really were his clothes in that closet.

...so why had any of it happened at all?

Shaking himself a little, Alan focuses on the jeans in his hands, then glances at Scout, where she's holding a pair of jeans for herself.]

No, it wasn't. [And it should have been...he shakes his head with a sigh.] No...Gerard still forged that note, and he still tried to kill me.

[The bitterness is thick in his tone, and the name falls from his lips with such a chill he feels the ice form on his lips. He can still remember being there, watching the moment his mother had been bitten. He still remembers his father telling him they'd handle it.

He'd been horrified when she took her own life...but he hadn't mourned her. Not until Gerard had presented him with his mother's suicide note with instructions to burn it...

And everything he'd always needed to hear his mother say was there. How much she loved him, how much she regretted her inability to show him the depth of it. How the women in their family had to be hard and strong, and that too often their loved ones suffered for that fortitude needed to lead.

How that, even though he'd never been the daughter she wanted, he was one of the finest men she'd ever known, and that he had to live for her...to be the man his father would need to see her death had meaning.

All he'd ever wanted was his mother's love...and it had driven him to do unspeakable things to the only people that really mattered, only to find out that Gerard had written it himself.

That she'd died in her own room. That his grandfather had kissed her forehead, that she'd died in his father's arms, but didn't even stop by his room to tell him to have fun at Lydia's birthday party before he left that night.

That he'd never been worth anything to her, save for his skill as a hunter. And that wasn't worth even a note.]

[There's so much more that Alan isn't saying. Scott can tell that much - he can practically smell it, though he's not sure what name to put to those emotions. Disappointment? Longing? He waits a long time, lets silence fall and stretch between them.

It's been so long in his mind, since the Argents were a danger to him - it's not that Scott forgets, really, it's that he can forgive so completely that transgressions become less, become softer and faded. All he knows is that something isn't right here. Something isn't being shared.

He turns to root through drawers again, finally coming up with a bra and grabbing a tee shirt at random. He can't just ignore this, because if nothing else, Alan should be a friend. So he stops, lets out a quiet breath, and turns back to the only Argent in the room.]

What happened? You're not...You're not telling me something. Why'd you think we'd still be together?

[The question brings Alan up short, and makes him...almost believe, for the first time, because he has to wonder what kind of world they lived in that his family could have kept them apart.]

Because if I was a girl? Everything would have been different. My mother would never have tried to kill you. Matt would never have started stalking you...hell, maybe Jackson never would have asked Derek for the bite. He damn sure never would have come under Gerard's control, because I wouldn't have let it get that far. The minute my mother was dead I'd have stepped up to take charge. I'd have changed the Code...and we'd all have been safe, don't you see?

[He's a little lost in the fantasy of it, his gaze distant and his expression soft with something like hope, just thinking about it.]

My dad and I, we'd have stopped Deucalion in his tracks. We'd have beaten Jennifer Blake down long before so many people had died...we'd never have tried to give up the life, because we'd be helping people. We'd never have had to sacrifice ourselves to save our folks, Stiles would never have been possessed...we'd all be home and safe and happy.

[He sobers then, and that pain Allison works so hard to hide, that Scott-shaped hole she never lets him see...it's out there in Alan's face, raw and open and full of regret.]

And we'd be together. Because I never would have hurt anyone. I'd be...I'd be stronger. I'd be better. [He lowers his gaze and shakes his head, drawing a shaky sigh.] I'd never have let my own stupid mommy issues cost me the only good thing I've ever really had.

[The wait of that hurt is too much. He's floored by how much has changed - how much hadn't - how much Alan thought that - that being Allison could have changed things. There's a small part of him that just wants to run, that doesn't want to explain that it wouldn't have mattered. He doesn't want to take away that hope. It feels like putting out a light. He doesn't - ever - want to put out a light for her - him.

Scott looks down at the clothes in his hand. He could be fast enough to just go, but he knows before he even thinks it that he's not just going to bail. That's not what he does.

His eyes dart to Allison's bed, and for a second, he thinks maybe they should sit down. But he's not sure that closeness right now is a good idea, either. Scott didn't realize - the only good thing I've ever had. Was that how Allison felt, too? His hair falls forward, and he pushes it back, tucks it behind his ears and breathes.]

It wasn't that different. Your mom still tried to kill me. She, um. Found out we were sleeping together.

[It's not as awkward to say as he thought it might be - though it still sounds ludicrous - so he pushes on.]

When we weren't supposed to be seeing each other, I mean. And Matt...Matt was stalking Allison.

[He's separating them in his head, making them four separate people. He can't tell someone with this much weight on them that their memories aren't real.

There's some emotion in his voice when Matt comes up, though it's not easy to describe. He was angry, but he never really hated Matt. What would he have done, if he'd had no one? And Matt really had been alone. He tries not to think about what might have happened, and shakes his head, only vaguely annoyed as the hair comes out from behind his ear again.]

Most of it happened that way. Allison did change the code, but not right away. It was - her mom had just died. Nobody can take on that kind of weight, after something like that.

[They had been young with no weight to carry, but he remembers how hard it was on Stiles. He remembers how impossible it had been, how all he could do was be there. Allison hadn't let him, and he couldn't blame her. He hadn't even been able to tell her why her mother had died.

Deciding to follow his instincts, even if the physicality of it all feels wrong, Scott sets aside his clothes and moves to hug Alan again, arms wrapping around under neath Alan's shoulders instead of above them.]

You are strong, dude. I can already tell that. [Because Allison was. He closes his eyes briefly.] I know you did everything you could. For everyone. [He's ignoring the way his voice goes tight.]

[It's a lot to take in, and by the time Scout has her arms around him, he's reeling in a million different directions.

The anger in her voice, talking about Alan...Alan's counterpart...being Matt's target. Knowing that Allison did change the Code, and hearing yet again how strong and good he's supposed to be when he's not...

Alan shuts his eyes, then after a moment he hugs Scout back. And it hurts, it rips him bloody inside because he can't hold her the way he wants to. In any world, he can't have her the way he was supposed to, and he doesn't have Isabel here with her pretty golden curls, quiet strength, and sad smiles to make him forget his sins long enough to believe that maybe, just maybe, he's entitled to a second or two of happiness.

He has his pack...but even that is a constant reminder of where he's failed them. And Scout...he can't get by without her, but even this comfort is just one more reminder of the fact that he's lost her for good, and that he's alone.

That he doesn't deserve her, that he never deserved her...that he will always be alone, and that's the way it's supposed to be.]

You've said that to me before. [His voice is quiet, thick with emotion, but he swallows it painfully down...he's already burned her with too much of it.] And you're still wrong...but I'm trying, babe. I swear to God, I'm trying to be that guy.

[It won't change anything. It won't bring her back to him now that she's found someone else...but he still loves her too much to ever disappoint her.]

[She doesn't believe him, and Scott closes his eyes tight again. He just needs to push it back. He needs to push it all back, so that he can be some kind of stable ground here. He feels like he's falling apart. The idea that maybe Allison has been feeling this way knots his stomach, like it's his fault, like it's not his fault but he feels guilty anyway--

He's chasing his thoughts in circles, and it's not helping anything. He breathes in - can't help but notice the differences in the way the Argents smell, or the similarities - and releases it slowly before leaning back with his hands on Alan's shoulders.

Maybe he can't change anything. Maybe nothing can be changed, maybe it's something that Alan comes to on his own, but Scott is bad at saying nothing. He's bad at walking away.]

I know technically you don't know me, but I'm willing to bet that Scout and I aren't all that different.

I wouldn't say it if I didn't believe it.

[And he has always believed in Allison Argent.]

[It would be easier if they were different. If she really was what she said, a guy he'd never met...or even a guy he knew, but not with the face that had been haunting him since he realized she was just...gone, that there was nothing left to win back. It would be easier if he wasn't looking into those eyes, through that wayward hair he was forever brushing out of her face with his fingers when they were together...

But nothing's easy in his life. Alan doesn't get easy or even kind. He never has, and he never will...so he gets this.

Scout McCall...or whoever it is...speaking with that absolute conviction and faith he can't turn away from. She--he--believes it, with a purity that Alan can't insult by rejecting.]

I know you wouldn't. [He pauses, drawing a shaky breath as he rubs the back of his neck absently and forces himself to take a very small step back.] Neither would she.

That's what I thought.

[He smiles a little, because - it's not like he isn't feeling how grossly awkward the whole thing is. He can only imagine what Alan's feeling about it, and for the most part - he really doesn't want to imagine what it was like. If Allison still looked like Allison, but thought she was supposed to be Alan?

God, that would be strange.

Scott shakes his head, waves his hands and goes to grab the clothes again.]

Okay, I'm gonna just...take these back to my room. Let me know if you need any more stuff, okay? Mi casa, and all that.

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003} can't no preacher man save my soul [video/spam]

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