theresalwayshope | 006} recalled to life (or 'tis a far, far better thing i do...)

[PUBLIC VIDEO]

[Allison is still deathtolling in the infirmary, but she has her comm and she's not afraid to use it. It's been about two days: she hurts like hell, she's pale, and even after being resurrected from the dead, there's been a lot going on.

She's got a lot to do, and she faces it all with the brightest smile she can manage as the feed shows her, still in bed, and features still tight with pain she's fighting to hide, radiating from the puncture wound that stole her life...the wound that's no longer there.]

So...was that what you guys call a port? Because that...sucked. And not just because...[She falters over it, because regardless of the ship's metaphysical mechanics, there's something so wrong about saying it, enduring it...returning from it.]

...because I died.

[Drawing a shaky breath, she hides a wince as she goes too deep, tests her recovering body too much.]

I just wanted to let everyone know I'm here, I'm okay...and that anyone from Beacon Hills is on notice. If you know Lydia Martin, Stiles Stilinski, or Scott McCall? Check in with them if you see them. Have they eaten, did they sleep...and if they haven't, make them. As soon as I can walk, I'm getting out of the infirmary, and it's going to be business as usual.

[VIDEO, Pack Filter]

Seriously, I'm fine, guys. If you don't take care of yourselves, I'm punching everyone. No exceptions.

[VIDEO, private to Needy and Duke]

Check in, you guys. I just want to make sure you're holding up okay.

[VIDEO, private to Vergil Sparda]

Hi. [Her smile is less bright, wearier and tighter with discomfort, but it's very genuine.] I'm still stuck with this...death toll thing...but I at least wanted to introduce myself. My name is Allison Argent, it looks like I'm going to be your warden temporarily.

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I know. It's going to hurt, I'm sorry. [His mouth go tight, corners dipping down as he watches sympathetically. She's breathing; that's good. After he shows up to take care of her he'll try to guide her through some meditative breath exercises.]

I'll do what I can. [Though Duke is unlikely to go out looking for them right now, he'll do what he can to take care of her friends if he finds them.

"Cocoa with marshmallows" is an invitation to extravagance as far as Duke is concerned. He is a restauranteur and a smuggler of fine goods including foodstuffs.] Got it. Anything else?

Just some company that won't kill themselves looking after me. [The smile that touches her face then is weary, pained, and very rough around the edges, but the warmth in it is childlike. She's tired, she hurts...and Duke doesn't deal in bullshit, but he's...sturdy. It doesn't feel awkward or uncomfortable admitting to him just how wrung out she really is.]

Thanks in advance, Duke.

Lucky for you, killing myself is not on my to-do list. [There's that wry little smile of his that often manages to be comforting at the same time, and he hangs up.

Getting to the infirmary is blessedly, happily, easy compared to the last few days. He's still armed, just in case, but only with the handgun. More important is the huge cup of rich cocoa he's brought, topped with a smattering of mini-marshmallows and a large dab of whipped cream.]

Room service.

[Allison grinned as he switched off the feed, then set her communicator down and shut her eyes again. Yes, he said he was coming up, but she didn't actually think he meant immediately...maybe in a couple hours, or later that afternoon. She was perfectly content with that, and maybe if she could take a nap or something she could somehow hurry the death toll along...

She didn't manage sleep, but she was drifting a little, zoned out with her eyes shut, somewhere between pain and rest when the voice stirred her back to life. Opening her eyes with a careful breath, she turned towards it and smiled...then beamed when she saw the gently steaming mug and caught the smell of chocolate and marshmallows.]

You are my new best friend next to my actual best friend. Seriously.

[With no inmate to look after and no reason to be in the pub right now, Allison has jumped pretty high on his list of priorities. And there's really no reason that Duke would ignore a kid in that much pain, ever. So he's back to his old tricks of spoiling people with good food, and once she acknowledges him moves forward to cup her hands around the mug.]

That's what everyone says when I feed them.

You mean I'm not the only one? [She sticks out her lower lip in her best possible pout as her fingers curl around the mug eagerly when Duke carefully helps her cradle it between her hands.] I think I'm jealous.

[She notices the whipped cream, however, and her pout melts into a fresh smile, raw and open and infinitely ragged from so much pain and too much worry, a lack of strength to keep herself strong and shuttered behind that bright and friendly teenager's smile.

It's more than the pain that bothers her, it's the memory of that nail being driven into her body...how cold it was, how much colder she got as she died. She sort of feels like she'll never be truly warm again, just wrapped in the fiery touch of nerves screaming in protest of a wound she no longer has.

The mug, however, is very warm...even a little too warm, but it's perfect. It's rich and sweet smelling, and as she takes a cautious sip, the way it scalds her tongue even feels good. It's natural, and she can't really feel it beneath everything else...just that raw touch of the burn that leaves her hyperaware of her own tongue sitting in her mouth.

Plus, it's good hot chocolate. The tiny marshmallows make it creamy, and she licks the perfect little crest off that little dollop of whipped cream. The warmth sliding down her throat spreads all through the rest of her, and though she hurts, though she's tired, though she was dead, she feels better.

And it can all be heard in the happy little sound she makes as she licks her lips after that first sip, something between a sigh and a purr of pure contentment.]

You never asked what I did back in Haven, did you? If only you knew the magic I can work with breakfast foods. [Granted, running the Grey Gull isn't nearly the only thing he does back home, but it's the important thing for now. Bringing up the pirate thing just leads to a long trail of conversation he'd rather keep private. And mentioning the supernatural and the Troubles is just a little too grim considering the mess she just came through.

Duke watches Allison for awhile, noting her tentative movements and her raw relief when she takes a sip. He draws up a chair near her bedside and settles down, resting his hands between his knees.]

So how do you feel about tacos?

[Given what Allison has seen him do with a weapon in his hands, she has a sense that be might be...holding back, but she has secrets of her own, so she just smiles as she holds her mug close to her chest, like she can curl herself around its warmth if she's very careful and doesn't strain to hard.]

I'm actually a big fan of tacos, actually. Is that an offer to feed me when I can get out of this bed?

That it is. Tacos are traditional fare for welcome-back-from-the-dead celebrations.

[He looks at her with smiling eyes but it's true. At least it was in Haven when Moira brought Nathan back to live.]

How're you feeling?

Truthfully? Like I should be dead.

[The remark comes with a small, wry smile, and that weariness she can't shake as she pauses for another sip of her cocoa, sighing a little after she swallows.]

I'm just...sort of processing the fact that I died. I mean...I knew beforehand that people come back here? But...I didn't remember that when I stepped in front of the guy with the big deadly nail.

[And given how upset they already are, it's not something she can talk to her friends about. Not even Lydia.]

Well, bodies don't lie.

[Duke nods, watching her drink and the way she relaxes a little.]

Who was the guy with the big deadly nail?

I...don't actually know. I mean, I haven't met him before...I think I heard his name is Zane?

[She shrugs, making an almost apologetic face.]

He was going to hurt my friend, that's all I knew at the time.

006} recalled to life (or 'tis a far, far better thing i do...)

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