015} now look up, well the skies are black {and they're getting darker all the time}

[theresalwayshope]

[SPAM;VIDEO]

[When the scream rings out, Allison drops like a lead weight.

It's a sound she knows well, the banshee's howl. It's painful, it's terrible, and it's terrifying because she's helpless. She would fear a dupe, if she hadn't smelled Lydia personally, if she hadn't known her for the short time they ran together...

As it is, she can't think of anything. The scream won't allow for it.

She regains awareness in the middle of the earthquake and the dark, confused and terrified and totally without direction.

Something breaks. The dark is endless.

Then...it's over.

Blinking against the sudden light, Allison flinches at the assault of new sights and sounds. She's in a room she doesn't know...a living room space, warm and neat yet lived in.

Her nostrils flare, sorting through the scents: human (Allison), rabbit, hay. There's gun oil, lead and gunpowder (bullets), the distant smells of cosmetics and breath mints and old traces of her father's aftershave. Turning in a slow circle, she spots pictures on one wall, photos of her...and on the coffee table, she takes note of a folding combat knife sitting next to some magazines.

Reaching out, she picks it up...flicks it open, then shut again.

All clues point to this space...belonging to her somehow, but there are weapons in it.

Tucking the knife into the back of her jeans, she fumbles in her pockets, looking for her comm. Finding it, her hands shake as she flicks it on, her face filling the feed a moment later. The fear is open on her features...and those that know Allison Argent well, as well as those who met her in the arena, may note enough differences in her demeanor to determine that something's very wrong.]

Everyone in the pack, please check in...I think there's something wrong.

[Allison kills the feed, then puts her comm back in her pocket, venturing cautiously out of her cabin. The doors in the corridor are familiar, but somehow wrong...

The number on the door matches. The infirmary is just down the hall. There is no question in her mind, this is her cabin. If not for the strange doors and the absence of her old room at home behind her door, she'd have sworn this was her Barge.

But, as she goes cautiously investigating the different levels of the ship (excluding warden areas at first, because she obviously doesn't have access), she slowly comes to realize that she's not where she belongs.

This ship is not the Barge she knows.]

Comments

spam

[freezerburns]

[Her hand in his, it's simultaneously soothing and endlessly painful. His hands unclasp from one another and he manages not to clutch at her, though his grip is tight. God, he's terrified his Allison won't come back. He's horrified at the thought of the hazy memories of his counterpart, with his ice-blue eyes, furious and disgusted at everything that him did to this Allison. He's desperate and scared and lonely and angry. He's a mess.

Her scent is right but it's not, there's werewolf where there shouldn't be, the lack of pack, the scent of her loneliness and her empathy and her confusion at his love for her counterpart. He can just imagine how he smells right now, to her, all those emotions going haywire inside him, their scents bursting out of his skin.

He doesn't cry or anything, but he looks stricken. He's torn up inside because he can't wish a version of her to that Barge, but he wants-- He needs Allison.

(He's thinking, wildly, stupidly, maybe he can save them both. The pack has enough deals between them. Maybe they can change this.)]

I'm sorry, I know-- It's--

[But he has to break off, shake his head. What is he supposed to say? This must seem so crazy from where she's coming from. He eases off on the grip, reluctantly drawing his hand back and out of her hold.]

spam

[theresalwayshope]

[When he tries to take his hand back, Allison growls.

It's reflex, and it's not threatening. The sound is low, quiet, soft and almost continuous like a cat purring. It's meant to reassure, to soothe as she catches his fingers again, because Allison's anchor has always demanded that she gives the wolf its way.

For Allison, violence and bloodshed...the two things the wolf wants most...have always been her perfect, unchanging anchor.

It's a strange irony that embracing the worst of the wolf has always brought out the best of it: her beast is very much a pack animal, nurturing and at her most violent when she's protecting her own. Sometimes she hunts to satisfy her urges under a full moon, but more often than not she's completely safe with a movie and a room full of bodies: sandwiched between Deucalion and her father on the sofa, even cuddled under the covers of her bed with Julia and Cora, Derek stretched out across their legs until the limbs fall asleep.

So it's not strange, the way she suddenly wants to take care of this Isaac...broken, aching, pining for his mate. It's easy to cling to his hand, then to shift onto her knees so she can draw him closer, wrap her arms around him gently, rest her head on his shoulder as she hugs him with that steady, soothing growl.

Mine.

He's not Allison's mate...but he belongs to her counterpart, and even her wolf seems to understand that they have to take care of him.]

It's okay...I've got you.

spam

[freezerburns]

[That growl, that low, weirdly relaxing animal noise, it's so... foreign coming from her. He can smell it with every breath, he's seen her eyes, he knows that this Allison Argent is a werewolf, but it's stranger to hear it like that. It fits but it doesn't. Just like everything else.

But he stops shifting back, just like he'd stop if it was his Allison speaking instead of this Allison growling. He can't supress a shiver when she hugs him, a rolling thing that twitches the muscles all down his back. It's not that it's not nice, it's just that doubling sense of her and not her. It freezes him for a moment, until finally, he hugs her back.

His arms curl around her, but gently, softly, the way he always touches Allison (he could hurt her so easily, he's not a good enough person not to so he has to be extra careful, why is she even with him in the first place). For a few moments, he just breathes her same-but-different scent, gets his equilibrium back. This is how it is for now. This Allison, instead of his Allison. She's been hurt enough - and god, does he hate his other self for everything he's done, whether they're together or not - and she needs pack. He knows that, for sure. After the other Barge, she needs pack around her.

Finally, he swallows and it's loud in his ears and... must be just as loud in hers. Her new, improved werewolf hearing. That's going to take some getting used to. He winces a little and loosens his arms, breaking the hug. But he keeps his hands on her arms.]

I'm okay. You don't-- You don't have to.

spam

[theresalwayshope]

[She huffs at him a little, a gentle sound of fond impatience as she presses her face against his shoulder, then lifts her head and nuzzled his cheek. The action is deliberate rather than affectionate, an animal mark of ownership in scenting him, breathing him in to learn his scent so she can find him anywhere on the ship.

The reality is dripping off of him, chemosignals thick with discomfort and confusion, with the pain of losing his mate. Making him part of her pack is the fastest way she knows of to fix it, to make herself less wrong to him.]

She's your mate...of course I do.

[Drawing back, she looks into his eyes with a gentle smile. Her own are glowing gold again, pupils ringed by a thin like of burning red.]

I'll take care of you for her...keep you safe until she comes back. There are others on the ship, people from my Barge...people who may not know you're not Lahey as fast as I did. I can protect you from them. I promise.

spam

[freezerburns]

[He can't help the way his eyes close, letting both their animal natures breath together. He seperates her, in his mind, learning the nuances of her scent as she learns his. She's a different person, so he compartmentalises. He puts her in her own distinct place in his mental category of pack.

When she draws back, smiles at him, his heart hurts but this time it's more pride for her than pain for the other Allison. The memories of that other version of himself are hazy, distant, indistinct. He knew about the potential in her, that True Alpha just waiting for a chance to break through, but it's a different thing to see it. Those rings of red are beautiful. They're so beautiful. Of course Allison Argent would step in to fill that gap and rise up to become what her version of Scott never could. Of course it would be her.

His jaw tenses when she says his last name - the other him, Lahey - with what he hears, whether she meant to show it or not, as little venom. That asshole, what he could have been if things had been different, the insane wolf who ripped his father's throat out and delivered a boy on a platter for Erica to slaughter. He remembers that, too.]

I'm with you. [Pack makes you stronger, literally. He wants to make her as strong as she can be.] We protect each other.

spam

[theresalwayshope]

[Allison nods, her smile growing, and she feels a little bit bad for the pride that swells in her chest. Not that it's bad to be proud of Isaac, but it's the reason for it.

This is not the Isaac she knows. It's not unusual for him to be so loyal, so sweet and so trusting. Like everyone from Beacon Hills she's met so far on this Barge, she wonders if there's anything left of this in the boy she knows.

Maybe he can be saved, too...he and Erica. Maybe they can look after each other.

Reaching up, she lays her hand against his cheek, another animal gesture of comfort.]

We will...here and back home. Isaac...I'll save him. I promise...I'll save them all.

spam

[freezerburns]

Don't. He doesn't deserve it.

[The words are hard, colder. He really is not a fan of that other him. Like, seriously. He's too close for comfort, only a few different decisions, a couple of pushes in different directions. There but the for the grace of Matt's lizard monster assassin goes he. He's not above being petty or hateful, not for a version of himself that makes him shudder.

He turns his face a little, leaning into her touch. His hand runs down her arm, catching her wrist and stroking the skin there. He shakes his head, doesn't meet her eyes.]

He wouldn't be loyal to you. Don't trust him. If-- When you go back, just... don't. Okay?

spam

[theresalwayshope]

[Allison watches him with wide, questioning eyes, the glow finally fading from them as he leans into her hand, catches her wrist...she gets the sense he'd touch her the same way, and she'd be pleased for him if not for the shame wafting off of him...revulsion, unrest, anger.

She brings her other hand to his face, gently turning his head to look her in the eye, running a thumb along his cheekbone.]

Isaac...I'll be careful, I promise, but I have to try. Maybe all he needs is a second chance. Knowing that someone believes in him, will care for him the way an Alpha should.

spam

[freezerburns]

[He breathes through his nose, closes his eyes for a second, then opens them to meet hers. There's a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach because he knows, without a doubt, that she will try. And that other Isaac, he's not going to be won over by that. He's too twisted, too far gone.

One of his hands come up to rest on her fingers, where they're touching his face. His other reaches up - slow, because no matter what, he doesn't want to hurt her - and brushes her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear.]

Maybe. Just be careful. I couldn't-- If he does anything to you...

[He shakes his head, huffs out a breath. She's going to try it anyway, regardless of what he says. A moment to think of something that might be helpful and then:]

Try Erica. Try helping him with her.

[It feels a little like betrayal, even though he's trying really really hard to keep himself and that Isaac seperate in his mind.]

spam

[theresalwayshope]

[She doesn't flinch when he touches her, but she does go very still, breath baited as she waits to see what he'll do...but it's a gentle touch, so careful and so soft it makes her chest ache with something warm and sweet...

She sees a lot of the wolf in him, but his human half...dimly, she understands why her counterpart would have chosen to be his mate if she couldn't be with Scott.

It's a long moment before she gathers her wits enough to nod, struck as she is by the unexpected connection she feels to him, by the font of love and compassion behind the eyes of a boy she's come to fear so readily.]

I will...I'll protect them both.